


It Runs in the Family

by dettiot



Series: Felicity Stark [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 82,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity Stark is the best of her parents. But becoming vice-president of a brand-new division of Stark Industries and moving to Starling City will test her in ways she never thought possible. Especially when a masked vigilante in green leather crosses her path.  An Arrow/Iron Man crossover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started with a [gifset](http://ginevra-red.tumblr.com/post/107234398687/felicity-smoak-appreciation-week-day-7-au), made by the amazing ginevra-red on Tumblr. When I saw it, I got inspired and with ginevra’s permission, I started work on this fic. I’ve never written crossover fic or worked with the Marvel Cinematic Universe characters before, so I’m a little nervous. I hope you enjoy how I’ve mashed up the two very different comics universes!
> 
> Many thanks to mersayseh for the beta, sarahtwinkie for her first read, and youguysimserious for the very important title help. There might be a bit of a delay before the next part comes out, but I wanted to take advantage of the release of the _Avengers: Age of Ultron_ as well as the end of _Arrow_ season 3. Thanks for reading!

“Good morning, Miss Stark. Your mother asked me to wake you now.”

Groaning, Felicity Stark rolled over in bed, pushing some of her blonde hair out of her face. “Why? And what time is it, JARVIS?”

“You would have to ask Mrs. Stark about her reasons. And it is eight-thirty, Miss Stark.” The disembodied voice of JARVIS managed to sound discreet and apologetic all at once. Not bad for an AI originally programmed over thirty years ago. 

But after all, her dad _was_ a genius.

Throwing back the covers, Felicity sat up, only to flop back down.

In response, JARVIS removed the tinting from the smart windows, letting bright sunshine fall over her bed. He also turned on three different video windows, one of them featuring the grating voice of KTLA’s morning anchor, Tiffany Trent.

“The business world is whipping itself into a frenzy this morning, in preparation for today’s Stark Industries press conference. Tony Stark is expected to make a major announcement about the future of the company--a future rumored to be in the hands of his daughter, Felicity Stark. The beautiful graduate of MIT has been working at her father’s company for the past six months and--”

“Mute, JARVIS, mute!” Felicity whined, pushing herself up. “I’m up, I’m up. Just stop her.”

Glaring a little at the silenced image of Tiffany--who had been Felicity’s nemesis since they were eight and Tiffany went by Tiffy--Felicity climbed out of bed, her bare feet padding against the floor as she left her room.

As she walked through the house towards the kitchen, Felicity rubbed her eyes. Considering she had gone to bed less than five hours earlier, she felt relatively awake. A couple of cups of coffee and she’d be good.

That is, if her mother didn’t have anything to say about it.

Stepping into the kitchen, Felicity spotted her mother sitting at the island, ankles crossed, hair back in a perfect ponytail as she sipped some tea. Without looking up from the three newspapers spread in front of her, her mother spoke. “What time did you go to bed?”

“Around three-thirty. Ish,” Felicity said, making a beeline for the coffeemaker. “I remembered the rule.”

Pepper Potts-Stark, CEO of Stark Industries and one of the most powerful women on the West Coast, if not the country, gave Felicity a soft smile. “Four hours before flashbulbs,” she said, referring to the family rule that before any planned press interaction, four hours of sleep was the bare minimum.

“Yep,” Felicity said, slurping down her coffee as she watched her mother. “I had to stop right in the middle of something. Dad’s gonna be very annoyed. Well, annoyed until he gets distracted by just what I’ve discovered and then he’ll start talking about how to better optimize the transfer rates and--”

“Felicity,” her mother said, smiling softly. “There is no way your father would be annoyed with you. Especially not today.”

Shuffling her feet, Felicity smiled a little. “He’s pretty proud, isn’t he?”

“We both are,” Pepper said, standing up and walking over to Felicity. “Although I want to remind you that with the new position, you’re going to have to stop with your student habits. No more staying up all night to code, all right?” Pepper paused, then broke out her mischievous grin. “At least not every night.”

Felicity grinned back. “Thanks, Mom.” She hugged Pepper tightly, closing her eyes as the fragrance that said ‘Mom’ surrounded her--freesia, citrus, and tea.

Pulling back, Felicity finished the coffee in her mug. “Where’s Dad?” she asked, putting some bread in the toaster.

“In his lab, I think,” Pepper said, tidying up her newspaper and carrying her own mug over to the sink. “I need to get into the office and prep for this afternoon. JARVIS is under orders to lock you both out of everything at noon, so you have time to get ready for the press conference.”

“You know, Mom, I’m twenty-one now. I don't think I need an electronic babysitter anymore. And between the two of us, Dad and I could override JARVIS,” Felicity said, leaning back against the counter.

“Really?” her mother asked, one strawberry-blonde eyebrow arching.

Uh-oh. Felicity put on a big smile. “I shouldn’t be using JARVIS as a crutch. And you’re right, I do need to be more responsible with my new position.”

Pepper eyed her, then grinned back. “Nice try, sweetheart. But you are too much your father’s daughter.” 

Felicity knew her mom was proud of her accomplishments and glad that she took after her dad. But Felicity knew she was also her mother’s daughter, too. Reaching out, Felicity grabbed Pepper’s hand. “You know, Starling City is practically a rainforest. I’m going to need to overhaul my wardrobe. You want to help me with that this weekend?” 

With a happy smile, Pepper nodded. “I’d love to.” She pressed a kiss to Felicity’s cheek. “Have a piece of fruit and some yogurt with your toast, okay? I’ll see you and your father at the office.”

“Two o’clock. We’ll be there,” Felicity said, heading toward the fridge and pulling out the yogurt and some blueberries. “Granola, I need granola,” Felicity muttered, only for a bag to appear at her elbow.

“Thanks, Mom!” she called to Pepper as her mother left the kitchen, her heels clicking against the tiles.

Smiling, Felicity finished preparing her breakfast, her mind starting to come fully awake. And that meant she could once again start getting nervous.

Because being named vice-president of the new Advanced Technologies division of Stark Industries, leading the development of a R&D complex in northern California, and figuring out how to manufacture the groundbreaking CPU she had developed? It was a lot to take on. And even though her last name was Stark, she was still a twenty-one-year-old blonde who liked dresses and bright nail polish.

That made Felicity check her nails, sighing in relief that her gel manicure was holding up.

Taking a seat at the island, Felicity swiveled a little on her stool as she ate her breakfast and though over her day. She would do some work with her dad before they headed over to the office for the press conference. Tonight she was meeting her friend Caitlin for drinks, since she was in town for a medical conference.

And somewhere in there she should fit in a workout, Felicity admitted guiltily. If her mom could get up at five every day to get some exercise, Felicity could spare a half hour for a go on the elliptical and some crunches.

After all, that was the responsible, adult thing to do--those were the exact words she’d use when she told her mother, Felicity thought with a grin. So after she put her breakfast dishes in the sink, she carried a fresh mug of coffee to her room so she could change. 

XXX

Exercised and showered, dressed in yoga pants and a cashmere sweater, Felicity took the stairs to the basement--her favorite part of the house, really. Because it felt like it was the heart of her home, the center. Because the basement was where her dad’s lab was located.

She tapped in her code and pulled open the door, immediately assaulted with AC/DC. That meant Dad was in a good mood. Or he was trying to annoy Captain Rogers or Director Coulson. Or both.

According to her uncle Steve, her dad had been doing that for as long as they had known each other. “He got the idea I don’t like stadium rock,” Steve had said with a smirk.

Felicity counted herself lucky to know that Steve Rogers had a pronounced sassy streak to him--and that her father had no idea about it.

“Dad?” she called out, not seeing Tony in the front part of the lab. JARVIS lowered the volume of the music and Felicity grinned as she called for her father again.

“Back here!”

Her flip-flops slapped against the floor as she moved deeper into the lab, finding her father in the middle of his pre-vis area.

“Hi,” she said, leaning through the blue holograms to kiss his cheek. “What’s all this?” she asked, taking in the wireframe of his Iron Man suit.

“Complete overhaul of the suit, using your processor,” he said distractedly. “Wanna see what happens.”

Her cheeks flushed as she took in what was going on. Tony Stark was one of the smartest people on the planet. Even when grading on the curve that there weren’t just humans on Earth now, her father was a genius. And here he was, using _her_ invention to make _his_ suit better.

Sometimes she couldn’t believe that this was her life.

“How’s it going?” she asked, sipping her coffee and running her eyes over the wireframe, all while trying not to bounce up and down with excitement.

“Initial calculations suggest a twenty-four percent improvement in computing efficiency is achievable,” JARVIS said.

“Bet we can get it up to thirty,” Tony said, manipulating the wireframe. “But I’d need you here for that.”

And there it was. Felicity smiled a little, even as she held back her sigh. “Dad, you don’t need me for this.”

“I disagree,” he said, turning on his stool to look at her. “One genius isn't enough--this needs two.”

“Then call Bruce,” Felicity said. “You know he’s always wanted to investigate ways to improve the suit’s biomechanics.”

Tony scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Biomechanics, right.”

“This is going to be good for me,” Felicity said, grabbing a stool and pulling it over. “and good for the company, too.”

“I don’t see why we need to set up shop in Starling. Let Merlyn and Queen fight over the scraps up there,” Tony grumbled.

“That’s the whole point, Dad. It’s the perfect environment for Stark Industries--we’ll be able to scoop up the best people from Merlyn Global and Queen Consolidated and probably knock at least one of them off the map.” Felicity paused and wrinkled her nose. “I hope it’s Merlyn Global. Malcolm Merlyn is creepy and Tommy Merlyn tried to hit on me when I was fifteen.”

Her father frowned. “Why wasn’t I or one of your several superpowered uncles around to take care of him?”

With a snort, Felicity leaned in and kissed his cheek again. “Because I took care of him, thanks to the training from Mom and my non-superpowered aunts.”

Her father tilted his head to the side, then nodded. “So he’ll never try that again.”

“So far, so good,” Felicity said with a grin. “Not that I’ve crossed paths with Tommy Merlyn for a long time.”

Standing up, she took a sip of coffee and went to the computer on the workbench, taking a closer look at the schematics. “Dad, why don’t we try this?” she said, setting her coffee down so she could make some changes to the code.

Tony watched what she was doing, and without her having to explain, he started making his own adjustments, following her lead.

As she got lost in the coding--and the thrill of working with her father like this--Felicity felt a pang. Even though she was excited about the move to Starling City, there was also trepidation. Because it was one thing to go off to MIT, which was her dad’s alma mater and a place she had visited her whole life. But moving to Starling, running a new division on her own . . . it was like she was really leaving home. She was officially an adult and that was weird.

And she’d miss seeing her parents every day, going out with her friends, even getting her morning latte at her favorite Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. In Los Angeles, everyone knew who she was--and they knew who her parents were. In Starling City, she would be starting over. Having to get used to a new city, new people, new paparazzi. It was a little bit daunting.

But like she told her father, it would be good for her. These last six months living at home had been great, but Felicity wanted to test herself. Wanted to live her own life. She knew the kind of rude awakening her father had received when he had been forced out of his uber-rich bubble. She wanted to be better prepared.

Although Felicity didn’t know if there was _any_ way to prepare for being kidnapped by Middle East warlords, living with shards of metal in your pericardial sac, and relying on a car battery to keep you alive, all while you built an armored suit to make your escape under the guise of pretending to make weapons for said warlords.

That was how she was different from her father, though. Because Felicity was pretty sure she couldn’t have done a tenth of what her father had done.

“Okay, princess, let’s run it.”

Giving her father a smile, hiding the direction of her thoughts, Felicity implemented the code, watching as the supercomputers updated the wireframe. Then, JARVIS’s voice came out of the speakers, a tinge of pride infusing his words.

“Mark 132 suit now operating at one hundred and twenty-seven percent efficiency.”

Felicity smiled widely and looked at Tony. “You did it, Dad.”

“No, you did it,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t mind me when I’m selfish and wish you’d never really leave, Felicity.”

Closing her eyes, she leaned against him for a moment. “Thanks, Dad.”

He kissed her hair again and then grimaced. “Your hair’s like straw. Blondes don't really have more fun, you know.”

“And you would know,” Felicity replied tartly. “I like being a blonde.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “What time is it? Your mother has been making twelve percent threats for the last week if either of us are late today.”

‘Twelve percent’ was some joke her parents had, one that neither of them have ever explained to her. Felicity smiled a little at another sign of her parents’ love, then swiveled to check the display on the computer. “We’ve still got a half hour before we need to start getting ready. We could keep working . . . or we could blow Mom’s mind and show up early. Just to stay unpredictable.”

“Genius. I love it. Go gild the lily by getting more gorgeous,” her father said, making her blush. “Meet you by the front door in a half hour.”

With a nod, Felicity left the lab, heading back to her room. Once she was out of earshot, she said softly, “JARVIS? Please lock Dad out of his computers in ten minutes.”

“I had already planned to do so, Miss Stark.” If it was possible for a computer to sound amused, JARVIS was very amused.

And that made Felicity laugh the whole time she was getting ready.

XXX

What was she doing here? Felicity couldn’t help fidgeting as she waited to make her entrance. She could faintly hear the buzz from the auditorium, from the journalists and reporters eagerly awaiting the big news.

They didn’t know that the new vice-president of Stark Industries felt like an imposter.

It was one thing to work with her dad, to stay buried in a lab tinkering with her processor. That was easy. But running the lab? Being in charge? That wasn’t something Felicity was good at. Since it took tact and public speaking, and Felicity Stark wasn’t good at either of those things.

Smoothing her clammy hands against her purple dress, Felicity resisted the urge to fuss with her hair, but only barely. And why had she worn her glasses today? She had wanted to look serious, professional, capable. But she probably looked like a nerd. A big, socially awkward nerd who was about to fail big-time.

Felicity twisted her brass rat around her finger and took a deep breath. Calm, she had to stay calm. She closed her eyes, running through the exercises she had learned as a pre-teen to handle her racing thoughts. Most of the time, breathing and simple meditation was enough to give her some control. To let her focus and deal with her nerves and anxiety. 

It wasn’t helping much today, but at least she wasn’t continuing to spiral deeper into her freak-out. Slowly, she found a way to balance out her nerves, just in time for the company’s head of PR to stick her head into the room and smile at Felicity. “Showtime, Miss Stark.”

“Thanks, Amelia,” Felicity said, quickly checking her lipstick and smoothing down her dress again.

“You look perfect,” Amelia said, giving her a wink. “But then, you’ve always taken after your mother more than your father when it comes to publicity.”

Because Felicity had known Amelia her whole life, she could laugh a little and nod. “Yeah, pretty much,” she said, following Amelia onto the small stage that had been set up in the lobby of Stark Industries’ headquarters. She was alone for only a moment--although it was definitely long enough to feel all the reporters’ eyes on her, long enough for Felicity to feel like she was standing there in her underwear--and then her parents were stepping up to the stage and flashbulbs were going off like crazy.

Pepper and Tony flanked her for a moment, then her dad patted Felicity’s back and moved to the podium. Still smiling, Felicity spoke to her mother through her teeth . “He doesn’t have cards.”

“You know your father,” Pepper said, mimicking Felicity’s speaking technique. “But he’s not going to screw this up. He wants this to work out for you. Because he’s so proud of you--we both are, sweetheart.”

That made her smile feel all trembly. Because she did know that they were proud of her. They were both excited for her. 

And both of them would miss her.

Reaching out, Felicity wrapped her fingers around her mother’s. She was sure Amelia was going to freak out about it, but Felicity didn’t care. She wanted to hold her mom’s hand for a minute.

After a few moments of standing silently at the podium and mugging for the cameras, her father leaned forward into the mike. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road Because that’s what is going to happen for Stark Industries. We’re going on the road. Next month, we’re opening up a new division of Stark Industries, the Advanced Technologies Division. In Starling City.”

There were a few murmurs, a few lifted eyebrows, but the crowd mostly was silent. Given her dad’s history with press conferences, it was probably good that no one was feeding his showman tendencies.

“Once we’re up and running in six months--” Felicity had silently and secretly vowed to have the division running in four-- “the Advanced Technologies Division will be manufacturing a groundbreaking computer processor chip, one that looks at Moore’s law, laughs, and says, ‘that’s cute’,” Tony continued.

That drew more of a ripple, but probably because people are asking each other what Moore’s law was. Tony ignored it and kept going. “This processor will not only change Stark Industries, it will change the world. So it’s only fitting that its creator will be overseeing the manufacturing. Ladies and gentlemen, the new vice president in charge of Advanced Technologies, and the future of Stark Industries: my daughter, Felicity Stark.”

The camera flashes started going off like strobe lights. Felicity was glad now for her glasses, because they helped hide how she was squinting. Letting go of her mother’s hand, Felicity stepped forward, wearing her best attempt at Pepper’s calm, unruffled smile.

She was pretty sure it looked more like a grimace, but no one seemed to care. Joining her father, who looked amused by it all, Felicity stood by his side at the podium and gave a little wave. That set off the flashes again, and she was grateful when they come to a sudden stop.

“Thank you, Dad,” she said, speaking into the mic and trying to remember to enunciate. “I’m so excited to be taking my place here, at the company founded by my grandfather and further grown by my mother and father. This new role is one that I . . .”

No one was looking at her. Oh, sure, the cameras were still pointed at her but everyone--the reporters, the assembled SI staff, and even her dad--were all looking at their phones, thumbing their screens or making calls.

Felicity didn’t understand. What was going on? Had she failed already?

Covering the mike with her hand, she leaned over towards Tony. “Dad, what’s going on?” 

He blew out a breath. “Looks like we just got trumped, princess.”

She was ready to ask what he was talking about, when he turned his phone towards her. And there, on the holographic screen, was the reason no one was paying attention to her anymore.

Because a good little rich girl was definitely less interesting than a bad little rich boy who had just returned from the dead.

“Oliver Queen is alive?” Felicity asked in shock, reading the headline out loud.

End, Prologue


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about that _Arrow_ season finale? I think you can all guess which moment made me cheer a little bit, if you’re reading this fic. :-) Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter; I was a bit blocked so I held off on posting. Happily, the block is fully broken and I’m really excited about what’s to come in this fic.

When it came time to pick the home for the newest division of Stark Industries, Felicity had done a lot of research. The choice of Starling City, in the north of California, hadn’t been lightly made. There were a lot of things that worked against it: the crime rate, the presence of two multi-national conglomerates, the lack of infrastructure. But Felicity had a sense, from the very beginning, that it was the right choice for Advanced Technologies--for _her_ division. And after a week of lobbying for Starling within the company--and two weeks with her parents--Felicity had gotten her way. She considered it her first great success. The first time she realized that she could do this--she could run a division. Maybe she was more like her mother than she had realized.

Now? Felicity regretted everything about the decision.

Because all the warnings and dire predictions about Starling City? They were all true. It’s an insular little city, refusing to look to the outside world for help or for publicity. It was as if, for the residents of the city, nowhere else existed outside the borders of Starling City and its suburbs.

It’s not that it wasn’t a good city. It definitely had its pluses, like thriving ethnic communities--which meant really good Indian, Korean and Mexican food. The best burgers she’s ever had thanks to Big Belly Burgers. Good ice cream shops . . . 

God, the only good things she could think of involved food.

Groaning, Felicity turned away from the window that overlooked Starling City. SI had purchased an office building in the downtown core, positioning themselves for the future while their manufacturing facility near the Glades was renovated and retrofitted to build her processor. The construction was going relatively well--much better than other aspects of running the division.

Like hiring. The closed-off nature of Starling City made finding the division’s employees more difficult than Felicity had anticipated. As an outsider, Stark Industries was having to fight for ground versus Merlyn Global and Queen Consolidated. And while there were applications coming in, the quality of the candidates wasn’t what Felicity had been expecting.

With a sigh and a longing glance towards the corner of her office, Felicity made herself focus on the stack of contracts in front of her, instead of the shiny new servers waiting for her to play with. If she got through half of her paperwork, she would start setting up the new servers, she resolved.

How did her mom do this?

The sudden buzzing of her cell phone made Felicity jump, banging her knee against the side of her desk. Holding back her curse, Felicity scooped up her phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

It was a bit creepy how her mother seemed to know when Felicity needed to talk. Either Pepper had ESP or she had bugged Felicity’s office. And the thing was, Felicity wasn’t sure which option was more likely.

“Hi, Mom,” Felicity said, pushing aside that question along with the legal documents. “I take it this is a social call, since you called my cell.”

“It is--I wanted to know if you took a look at those designer previews I sent you. You need to move quickly to get the best of the spring collections,” Pepper said, her voice gentle and nonjudgmental. 

At least, it sounded like she was trying to withhold judgment, unless you knew Pepper Potts-Stark very well. Like Felicity Stark did.

“Mom, I swear, I’m dressing like a grownup.” Felicity straightened her button-down and shifted in her spinny chair, making sure she wasn’t wrinkling her pencil skirt.

“I just thought the reason you haven’t been making the rounds in Starling City was because you discovered your wardrobe wasn’t quite right. Clothes make the woman just as much as they make the man,” Pepper reminded her.

Felicity bit her lower lip. She took after Tony in body type: short. Instead of her mother’s graceful neck and willowy figure, she had only inherited Pepper’s ability to rock a ponytail. And there was no shortage of beautiful women in Starling, from the society coverage she had seen online.

But more than that, Felicity was embarrassed to discover that in Starling City, her last name didn’t matter. Because she wasn’t getting invited to the nonstop round of parties, galas and charity events. Oh, Stark Industries was receiving the perfunctory invites, but none were arriving for Felicity Stark.

And that was pretty humbling.

“Mom . . .” Felicity said, wondering if she should tell her. She knew Pepper would offer clear-cut advice on how Felicity could move forward. But if she did that, she would make Pepper worry. And running to Mommy? Not exactly a habit Felicity wanted to develop.

So instead, she went for a half-truth. “I got them, but I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to look at them. Much less get out of the office to any events.”

“You’re taking care of yourself, right?” Pepper asked immediately. “Getting enough sleep, eating right, keeping up with your workouts?”

“Mom,” Felicity said, striving to make her voice firm instead of whiny. “Do you call your other vice-presidents and ask them those questions?”

“No, but none of the other vice-presidents are my only child,” Pepper said, sounding amused. “But you made your point, sweetheart.”

Now she felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry,” Felicity sighed.

“I understand, Felicity--it’s okay,” Pepper said reassuringly. “Look on the bright side: at least I didn’t fly up there to see you, as your father keeps saying he’ll do.”

And since “flying” for her dad meant a better than fifty-fifty chance of the Iron Man suit being involved, her mom must have been talking Tony down off the ledge and keeping him away from Starling City.

“How’d you convince him not to do that?” Felicity asked, leaning back in her chair.

“I have my ways,” Pepper said, confirming Felicity’s silent hunch: sex.

The last thing she wanted to think about was her parents having sex, so Felicity changed the subject. “If you see anything in the designer previews you think I’ll like, just go ahead and get it for me.”

“Okay,” Pepper agreed. “There’s a gold sequined cocktail dress that would be stunning on you. Oh, that reminds me--I had drinks with Walter Steele a few weeks ago.”

“The CEO of Queen Consolidated,” Felicity said promptly. “In LA?”

“I ran into him at LAX,” Pepper said. “He was on his way to Australia but the QC jet had mechanical trouble. He’s quite nice, although that whole family is frazzled by the return of Oliver Queen.”

Rolling her eyes, Felicity sat up in her chair. “That’s all anyone talks about up here.”

“Mmm,” Pepper said. “Makes sense.”

“Yeah, for the first month. But it’s been nearly five months, I think? And the stories never stop,” Felicity said.

Although maybe she should be grateful, she thought in resigned annoyance. All the attention on Oliver Queen had kept the press from asking questions about how things were going with Stark Industries and its young heiress/vice-president. It didn’t hurt that Oliver Queen kept doing things that got him press coverage: getting kidnapped right after his return, showing up drunk at some dedication ceremony, starting a nightclub in the Glades with Tommy Merlyn . . . he never stopped attracting attention.

“Have you run into him? I can’t remember if you met him before he was shipwrecked.”

Her mother’s voice was so light and casual, it had to be an act. Felicity frowned. “Um, no . . . I mean, yes, I met him before, when we were younger. But I haven’t seen him recently. I don’t think we’re moving in the same circles, Mom.”

“Maybe,” Pepper said. “Well, Walter said everyone’s having trouble adjusting, so perhaps you could make a point of showing some support towards the family.”

“Even as we try to undermine QC?” Felicity asked dryly. 

“That’s business--it’s nothing personal,” Pepper said. “But none of the family are involved with QC, just Walter, so I thought it wouldn't be too much of a conflict.”

If her mother was the average rich man’s wife, Felicity knew this line of questioning would be about Felicity finding a rich husband and increasing the Stark wealth. Thank God her mother was anything but average.

“It’s nice of you to think like that, Mom,” Felicity said, turning back and forth in her chair. “And I agree. If I run into any of the Queens, I’ll pass along your best.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, Felicity, I have a conference call now. But you know you can call me anytime, right?”

Felicity smiled softly. “I know, Mom. I love you--bye.”

“I love you, too,” Pepper responded before hanging up the phone.

Setting aside her cell phone, Felicity returned to the contracts. But with her current thoughts, the paperwork didn’t hold her attention.

If there was anything she had learned from her mother, it was the concept of ‘fake it ‘til you make it’. That didn’t mean you weren’t prepared, or blundered your way into something. But you did want to not wait to make something happen, even if you weren’t totally ready.

So perhaps she should stop waiting to be asked to join the Starling social scene and just get out there. Stark Industries was getting invited to galas, if only to offer up big checks, and Felicity was the face of SI here in Starling. And she was getting tired of sitting at home every night, not having any friends to meet for coffee and shopping and movies. She had great friends, but none of them were in Starling City. Caitlin was the closest, but Central City was a long way from Starling.

With a small smile, Felicity made a note to go through the recent invites to see what options were on the table. And if she wasn’t getting invited to the best parties . . . well, why couldn’t she crash? It would be an adventure--and honestly who would notice her while Oliver Queen always got the headlines?

Felicity had never really gotten to know the infamous “Ollie” Queen. He was four years older than her--just old enough to not be part of the same crowd, and even though the social world was small, the distance between LA and Starling worked against the insularity of high society. Plus, Oliver Queen wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to pay any attention to a smart, nerdy brunette, like she used to be. Or the smart, nerdy blonde that she was now. 

“Felicity!” Gerry, her assistant, burst into the room. “You have to watch this!”

Blinking, Felicity watched as Gerry crossed to the flat-screen at the other end of her office. “If this is about the Avengers, Gerry, it’s not exactly all that noteworthy to me . . .”

“No! It’s the Green Arrow!” he said in excitement, putting on Channel 52, where anchor Brittany Lincoln was presenting some kind of special report.

“. . . the vigilante known as the Green Arrow was responsible for stopping this firebug, according to reports. This represents a change for the mysterious crimefighter--has he turned over a new leaf and is going beyond his attacks on one percenters?”

Felicity frowned. She didn’t know how she felt about the archer who had burst onto the scene in the last few months. Yeah, it was great he was helping people in the Glades--they so desperately needed help. The police couldn’t keep up with the crime there, especially when no one was striking at the cause of the problem: endemic injustice. But keeping himself hidden, refusing to work with the police or reach out to the superhero community . . . that didn’t seem smart. Or likely to ensure a long life. Because going it alone just decreased the chances that the Green Arrow would make it.

“That leather is working for him,” Gerry said, as blurry shots of the vigilantes flashed across the screen.

“It is,” Felicity admitted with a laugh. “Hey, Gerry, can you bring in the social invites when you get a chance? It’s time I start getting out of this office.”

“Of course, Ms. Stark,” Gerry said, hurrying back to his desk.

He had left the TV on, and Felicity didn’t turn it off before she went back to her own desk. It would give her some background noise--and she had to admit, she was curious about this guy.

XXX

Carefully, Felicity lifted the skirt of her dress as she climbed the stairs to the entrance of the Starling City Arboretum and Gardens. She had fallen in love with the red gown and its wide shoulder straps, but the slim-cut skirt could have used a slit. But then, showing a lot of leg didn’t seem ideal at a charity gala to support Starling City Children’s Charities. 

Her curly hair, arranged to fall over one shoulder, brushed against her skin as she turned her head, taking in the venue and the people filling it. After six weeks, she was finally starting to feel comfortable at these parties. But there would always be that initial flutter of nerves when she walked into the room. 

Would there be anyone she was acquainted with? Would she be able to mingle, say the right things, and do her best Pepper imitation, or would she babble and unknowingly insult someone? Would her dress let her fit in or make her stand out? 

She had known that starting Advanced Technologies would be hard work. But Felicity had no idea that the social element would be just as hard. It was starting to get easier, between the big checks that SI and Felicity herself had been writing, and the fact that the society pages liked covering the smart, pretty daughter of Tony Stark.

At least this gala offered entertainment she could enjoy: gambling. She didn’t indulge often, but when she did, Felicity won big. It helped that she could count cards, flirt, and drink champagne at the same time.

Speaking of which, she thought with a small grin as she lifted a flute of bubbly from a passing waiter. Taking a sip, she walked further into the room and made unplanned eye contact with Carter Bowen, who started moving towards her. 

It would be in bad taste to chug the champagne and ignore him, right? 

With a smile pasted on her face, Felicity lifted her face for the unfortunate social ritual of the air kiss. “Dr. Bowen, always a pleasure to see you,” Felicity said, never meaning a sentence less. 

His lips actually brushed against her cheek, lingering for a moment and making Felicity step back as soon as she could to put a bit of distance between them. “Please, no need to be so formal. Carter.” 

“I suppose with someone so distinguished as you, I can’t help using your title,” Felicity said lightly. “Not to mention all those years of medical school--you should be recognized for all that. It makes me wish I could show off my degrees with a title. Or a fancy hat or something.”

“A woman as lovely as yourself can show off without having to mention her degrees at all,” Carter said, his practiced charm making Felicity press her lips together. Because . . . did that really work on women? 

“Although brains don’t hurt, do they, Ms. Stark?” 

The sound of Malcolm Merlyn’s voice made Felicity question just who she had pissed off. It was bad enough dealing with Carter’s flirtation--now she had to deal with Malcolm’s creepiness, too. 

“I’ve never thought so, Mr. Merlyn,” Felicity said, tightening her grip on her glass of champagne. “But I’m usually in the minority there.” 

“Oh, I doubt that,” Carter said, jockeying to stay by Felicity’s side. “Felicity, would you--”

“Tell me, Ms. Stark, how are things over at Stark Industries?” Malcolm interrupted, preening a little. “Putting up that factory near the Glades must be keeping you busy.” 

Felicity smiled tightly. “It is. But we have great people working on the renovations, so the facility should be ready soon.”

“Where you will make some kind of fancy new computer chip, so I’ve heard.”

Whatever game Malcolm was playing, he wasn’t very good at it. He was trying too hard to be casual, but then, maybe he wanted her to think that. Wanted her to distrust him, so she would second-guess everything he was doing and not trust her instincts. 

It was a good approach. But Felicity doesn’t plan to fall for it. 

Putting on a bright smile, she nodded. “That’s right. _Wired_ called it the biggest advance in computing since the creation of TCP/IP. Once the factory is up and running, we’ll be having tours for everyone to learn more about my processor. You should come, Mr. Merlyn. I’m sure you’d find it . . . interesting.”

She lifted her glass, finishing her champagne, and then smiled again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have champagne to drink and money to lose. For charity, of course.” 

“Let me escort you, Felicity,” Carter said eagerly. “I could use a good luck charm when I play craps.” 

“Oh, no, Carter, you should talk to Mr. Merlyn about your new book, about the children’s clinic in Somalia? I’ve heard it’s very good, and I’m sure when Mr. Merlyn hears you talk about the clinic, he’ll want to give you a big check,” Felicity said quickly, patting Carter’s shoulder. “I’ll see you later.” 

As she escaped towards the bar and buffet, Felicity gave thanks for all the hours she had spent watching her mother deal with annoying people. Because slipping away while forcing Carter Bowen and Malcolm Merlyn to talk to each other? Pure Pepper. 

With another glass of champagne in her hand, she was looking over the buffet for any non-peanut options when a light hand touched her shoulder. “You have to tell me your secret for dealing with Carter Bowen.” 

So surprised by the touch, and to hear a friendly voice, Felicity whirled around, some of her champagne spilling over the edge of her glass and dripping down her hand. “I’m sorry!” she said, eyeing the brunette in front of her, who looked slightly familiar. “Did I get any champagne on you?”

The brunette smiled a little and shook her head. “No, you’re fine.”

“I’m sorry, I was just surprised,” Felicity said, feeling her cheeks go as red as her dress. 

“It’s my fault,” the other woman said, reaching for a few napkins and passing them to Felicity. “I was just so impressed with what you just did with Carter.”

“Oh?” Felicity asked, glancing at her before dabbing at her hand with the napkins. 

She nodded. “I’ve been trying to shake Carter all night.” She held her hand out to Felicity. “Laurel Lance.” 

Now Felicity knew why she looked familiar. In the parlance of the gossip pages, Laurel Lance was the perfect combination of brains and beauty. Tall with modelesque good looks, she was a lawyer who worked at a legal aid clinic--and had been Oliver Queen’s on-again off-again girlfriend until his shipwreck. Now she was dating Tommy Merlyn. 

Taking a quick breath, Felicity managed to smile as she finished wiping off her hand and then took Laurel’s. “Felicity Stark. It’s really nice to meet you.” 

“Mutual,” Laurel said. “So, please, I’m begging you--what’s your trick?” 

“Oh, well, it’s no trick, not really,” Felicity said. “I just always remember that Carter is an arrogant douchebag who loves to talk about himself, especially when he can keep working his whole ‘Dr. Albert Schweitzer with abs’ routine. So I got him to start talking to Mr. Merlyn about his last book and everything, and that let me get away.” 

Laurel had an admiring look on her face. “Dealing with Carter and Malcolm in one fell swoop. I had heard you were a genius, but no one said you were an evil one.” 

“Evil one what?” asked the dark-haired man who came up behind Laurel, resting a hand on her hip.

“Hi, Tommy,” Felicity said, smirking a little. Of course he didn’t remember her.

Tommy Merlyn had gotten better looking in the last five years. He’d grown into his face and looked less weedy than he had at nineteen, when he had hit on a fifteen-year-old Felicity. 

His eyebrows went up, then narrowed in thought. “Felicity Stark, as I live and breathe,” he said, surprising Felicity. He took a step back, his free hand going over his crotch. “I didn’t know I would need to wear a cup to this party.” 

“As long as you don’t hit on underage girls, you won’t need one,” Felicity retorted. 

Laurel gave Tommy a mildly disapproving look. “You didn’t. Wait, no, of course you did.” 

“It was over five years ago! I was a jerk back then,” Tommy protested.

“You’re still a jerk, Merlyn,” Laurel replied, but there was such affection in her voice, Felicity couldn’t help smiling. 

“It was a long time ago,” Felicity said. She held her hand out to Tommy. “Peace?” 

He took her hand and gave it an easy shake, his smile lighting up his face. “Yes, please. Your knees are killer.” 

At Laurel’s curious look, Felicity grinned and shrugged. “He hit on me when I was fifteen. And considering who taught me self-defense, Tommy regretted it.” 

“And that teacher was . . .?” Laurel asked slowly.

“The Black Widow, mostly,” Felicity said, smirking. 

Laurel snorted with laughter and Tommy put on a mock-hurt act. “I’m glad my pain and suffering amuses you so much, Lance.” 

“Always,” she said, leaning in to kiss him lightly. “Now go away and let me have girl talk. Is Ollie here?” 

Right. Not only was Laurel his ex, but Tommy was Oliver’s best friend. It was weird: lately it felt like everything in her life kept drawing her close to Oliver Queen’s orbit.

“Nah, he skipped out, although Thea’s here,” Tommy said before frowning. “And I should go check on her, so enjoy the girl talk.” He kissed Laurel’s cheek and turned to Felicity. “Glad we buried the hatchet, Felicity.” 

There was something so infectious and charming about Tommy that she couldn’t help smiling. “Me, too, Tommy.” 

They both watched him walk away and then Laurel turned back to Felicity with a smile. Felicity smiled back, trying not to feel intimidated by just how pretty Laurel was. “So how are you liking Starling?” Laurel asked, her voice curious and friendly. 

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, Felicity started to relax. Laurel was a good conversationalist, and Felicity would have been happy to keep talking to her and maybe having Tommy get involved, too. But then Laurel got a call from her office and made her excuses, leaving Felicity alone. 

The warm, humid air of the arboretum made Felicity wish she had worn a dress with a short skirt. Between the people crowding the room and the glasses of champagne, she could use some fresh air. Spotting a patio at the far side of the room, she made a beeline for it, not letting herself get drawn into any conversations on the way. Even when she heard a group of people about her age talking about the latest attacks by the Green Arrow.

But she did slow down to eavesdrop a little when she heard some businessmen talking about Stark Industries.

“Word has it that they’re getting hacked nearly every day.”

“My source in Stark HR says no one with any skills wants to work there,” another man responded. 

Felicity frowned and moved on, not wanting to attract attention to herself. But she certainly didn’t like what she had heard. Because it was the truth--the hacking attempts, at least. None of them had come close to succeeding, of course, not with the firewalls and other security measures she had created. But the fact that so many attempts were being made--and that the attacks weren’t coming from China or anywhere like that--made her concerned. She hadn’t thought that anyone outside the company knew about the hacking, though. 

When she stepped out onto the patio, grateful that it was empty, she took a few deep breaths. The cool air made her shiver, but in a good way. She needed to cool off. And to regroup. Every time she thought she was making progress, she felt like she got knocked back. Two steps forward, one step back. 

But at least it was progress, she told herself, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the railing around the patio.

There was a soft rustling behind her and Felicity sighed a little. Looked like it was time to be sociable again. 

But before she could turn around, her skull exploded from a sharp blow to the back of her head.

XXX

As consciousness slowly returned to Felicity Stark, she tried to remember everything she had been taught over the years. Being the daughter both of a billionaire and a superhero, Felicity couldn’t remember when she had her first lesson in ‘what do you do if you’ve been kidnapped’. But by now, she knew exactly what to do: take in everything you could about your surroundings, keep the kidnappers talking without antagonizing them too much and look for a way to call for help or get away.

Blinking her eyes open, she squinted as the dim lighting in the room assaulted her eyes. Her head was pounding and she slowly lifted a hand, touching the back of her head but not feeling any blood. So at least there was that. Add in the fact that they hadn’t even tied her up and Felicity wondered whether the kidnappers underestimated her that much or if they were taking an order not to hurt her a little too extremely. 

Other than bashing her over the head and kidnapping her, that is. 

She shook her head and immediately winced. “That was dumb, Felicity,” she said out loud, rubbing her temples and taking a deep breath. Once the pain had passed, she made herself look around the room, moving her head slowly as her eyes swept over everything.

It appeared she was in some kind of office. There was a desk with a mid-range desktop computer on it, two chairs in front of the desk and a row of filing cabinets behind it. No landline telephone, though. The sofa she was sitting on was perpendicular to the desk, along a wall with three windows. There were doors to her right and to her left.

So there were three ways out. 

Felicity turned slowly to look out the windows and then sighed. Two ways out: the office was at least twenty feet above the ground, and even if she was willing to try to climb down, her head and her dress would work against her. 

That left the doors. 

Lifting up her feet, she looked at her heels. Then she started undoing the buckles before kicking off her shoes. 

On her bare feet, she padded towards one of the doors, the one closest to the desk, and tried turning the knob. But nearly immediately, she realized it was locked. So was the other door. 

Getting away wasn’t an option. But she could call for help, at least. 

Felicity moved to the computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard. There was only the standard Windows security features, which she had been able to break when she was nine. So it was just a minute before she had access. 

Overlooking the soft-core porn wallpaper, she searched the desktop for an Internet browser and then frowned. It couldn’t . . .

Leaning around, she examined the back of the computer and groaned. Who didn’t have Internet access now, in this day and age?!?

Her disbelief and annoyance faded as reality quickly settled in. Her purse was gone, there was no telephone, and the computer had no Net access. She was locked in a room that she couldn’t escape from and she couldn’t call for help.

Although maybe--

Dashing back to the window, Felicity climbed onto the couch and peered out through the grimy glass. The windows overlooked an alley--a dark, deserted alley. But if she yelled loud enough, someone was bound to hear her, right?

It didn't look good, but it was her best option. She pushed at the window sill, only to realize the windows had been nailed shut.

“Well, frack,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.

Without any other options, and her head pounding, Felicity made herself climb down and sit on the couch. She breathed in and out slowly, trying to stay calm. To not think about how long it would take for anyone to miss her. It was Friday night: Gerry wouldn’t expect to see her until Monday. Her parents were in New York, Caitlin was on an Operation Smile trip in Bolivia this week, and she didn't have any friends in Starling.

Her weekend plans to order Chinese and marathon _Orange is the New Black_ suddenly seemed even more sad and lonely.

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t freak out. It wouldn't help. She just had to wait for her kidnappers to show up so she could negotiate with them. This had to be about money--and if there was one thing she could get, it was money. The care they had taken with her showed how valuable she was to them. Any minute now, someone would come in, twirling his mustache and going “mwah-ha-ha” over his evil plan.

After a minute of staring at the door, Felicity groaned and leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes.

The sound of a door being unlocked made her eyes pop open. Felicity sat up quickly and kicked her shoes under the couch and then tucked the skirt of her dress over her bare feet. 

The man who walked in was probably only a few inches taller than Felicity, with a stout figure and big, meaty hands. He wore a shiny suit with an open-collared shirt and no tie. He walked with a bit of a limp. When he saw her, he smiled at her. A wide, pleased smile, showcasing his white, narrow teeth. 

All those details were processed and sorted and categorized by her brain in a flash, leading her to the conclusion that this man was just an intermediary. Perhaps a hired hand, brought in to arrange her kidnapping. His whole appearance screamed ‘mob wiseguy’. 

“Good, you’re awake,” he said. “We can talk.” 

He hitched one leg up to take a seat on his desk, eyeing her. Felicity lifted her chin, trying her best to appear calm and unaffected. “What’s there to talk about? You’re going to let me go.” 

“Oh, am I?” he said, looking amused. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I can pay you whatever you want. And you give me a phone and I can get even more money.” 

“Right, ‘cause you’re Felicity Stark,” the man said, running his eyes over her. “Pretty little rich girl.” 

If he knew her name, there was no sense in replying to that crack. So Felicity just stared at him, trying to channel all her focus into making him let her go. 

“Too bad my boss don’t want your money, blondie.” 

“What?” she said, talking before she had even fully realized what he had said. “This isn’t about ransom?” 

“Nope,” the man said gleefully. “My guy’s got plenty of his own cash. This is about that doohickey you whipped up.” 

Felicity blinked. “My processor?” 

“Whatever,” the man said with a shrug. “My boss? He wants it. So you’re gonna give him the--the whatchamacallit, the test version?”

“The prototype,” Felicity said, feeling confused and shocked. This was all about getting access to her processor? There was no way she would give it up. It was her baby! And without it, Stark Industries wouldn’t be able to manufacture the chip. 

“Yeah, the prototype,” the man said. “My boys are gonna take you to your office building and you’re gonna give it to them. Then you’ll be free to go.” 

Like hell she would. 

Rising to her feet, needing to feel like she had the advantage of height if nothing else, Felicity set her jaw. “And why would I do that? In less than an hour, the Avengers will be here to rescue me. Because if you know who I am, you know who my father is. That means you’re in for a world of hurt.” 

The man snorted. “Yeah, right. Nobody knows you’re here, blondie, and nobody’s comin’ for you.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

It was lousy strategy to bluff when you didn’t know what all the cards on the table were. But Felicity was feeling desperate. Because he was right: no one was coming for her. 

He snickered. “Angelo, Vinny!” 

The door opened and Felicity turned to see two ginormous men walk in. They both were well over six feet tall--and their shoulders looked to be nearly that broad. Their arms strained their suit jackets and their fists were the size of her head. 

Clearly, they were the muscle. Muscle that was ready to be used against her. 

“Like I said, my boys will take you over to your office and you’ll give ‘em your whosey-whatsit. Capice, blondie?” 

“No, I don’t,” Felicity said, squaring around to face the man on the desk. “I mean, no, I do understand, since that’s what ‘capice’ means. But what I mean is, no.” She stopped and took a deep breath before she let her shoulders fall back, putting on the appearance of being completely unbothered by this turn of events. 

“Do your worst,” she said. “I’m not going to give you anything.” 

The man’s smile, which had never totally faded, reappeared. It was wider than before, with an animalistic quality to it. One that said he was going to enjoy this. 

“You’re gonna wish you played ball with us, blondie,” he said, lifting his hand and making a little ‘come hither’ gesture. 

But before either of the brutes could even take a step towards her, the door behind them was kicked open. 

And a man in green leather came through the doorway, an arrow already nocked on his bow. 

“Fuck!” the man said, which was actually Felicity’s reaction. 

Because what the hell was the Green Arrow doing here?

Felicity dropped and rolled towards the far wall, moving out of the line of fire. She was just in time: the vigilante let his arrow fly, the shaft burying itself in the fleshy mass of Angelo-or-Vinny’s chest. Faster than she thought was possible, he did the same to the other goon, then pointed a third arrow at the man who was now cowering before him.

Then, to Felicity’s shock, the hooded man turned his head a little, enough for her to think he was looking at her. “Are you alright, Miss Stark?” he said, his voice electronically modulated to sound low and deep. 

She nodded, her body reacting even if her mind was too caught up in questions without answers. What was he doing here? How did he know her name? Why had no one talked about how good green leather looked on him? 

“Miss Stark!” he repeated. “Are you okay?” His words were harsh and clipped, the command unmistakable. 

The voice scrambler made her head hurt--although not as much as it hurt to tear her eyes away from the curve of his ass. “I’m fine!” she said quickly. “I’m fine, nothing happened. Other than a blow to the head, I mean, and being taken here, wherever--” 

The absolutely last thing she wanted to do right now was keep talking. Felicity forced her mouth shut and shakily got to her feet, feeling like her face was on fire with embarrassment. 

Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought the Green Arrow seemed . . . a little amused? Because when he spoke, even with the voice scrambler, something came through in his voice that made her think he thought she was funny.

“Good,” he said, before turning back to the man. “You’re working for the Dark Archer. What does he want?” 

“I ain’t workin’ for no bow freak!” 

The emerald archer let loose an arrow, which hit the computer monitor in a shower of sparks. The man yelped and ducked. “He just hired me to snatch the broad and get somethin’ from her!” 

Felicity thought the Green Arrow didn’t like that answer, because he used his bow to club the man over the head, knocking him out. She watched as he breathed heavily for two beats, and then he turned towards her. 

“Miss Stark.” 

“When--when a mysterious crime-fighter saves me, he gets to call me Felicity,” she said, feeling shaky and overwhelmed. 

The Green Arrow tilted his head a little. “Miss Stark,” he repeated. “Did he tell you what he wanted from you?” 

Her lips were already parting, ready to tell him, when her brain finally kicked in. He didn’t work with the police, his motives were unknown, and who was the ‘Dark Archer’ he had been asking about? 

“I--I don’t know if I should tell you,” she said slowly. 

He took a step towards her, tension visible in the line of his shoulders and arms. “Felicity--” he said, only to stop and pull back as the faint sound of sirens grew louder. 

With a muffled noise that might have been a curse, he turned and shot an arrow at the window, shattering the glass. “Wait for the police,” he said, turning around and stalking towards the opening. 

Before she could ask him why he was here, what he wanted, or even find out why the hell he was doing all this, he fired another arrow, through the window this time, and jumped out. 

If it wasn’t for the glass littering the floor and her bare feet, Felicity would have rushed after him to watch him swing away. But instead, she made herself stand still and wait for the police to find her. 

But that gave her plenty of time to consider all the ways she was going to dig up every scrap of information there was about the Green Arrow.

End, Chapter 1


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so much action in this chapter--it’s more about the character interactions. Many thanks to the remarkable mersayseh for betaing!

Really, it was pretty amazing that it had taken nearly twenty-two years for someone to kidnap her. 

After all, she was Tony Stark’s daughter! He was richer than some small countries. But no one had ever wanted to kidnap her and hold her for a king’s ransom. No, the first time she got kidnapped, it was because of something she had done. 

Felicity would feel flattered, if it wasn’t for the fallout of her kidnapping. 

Because getting kidnapped? It made your parents fly into town, acting like you were made out of glass or spun sugar or something else equally fragile. It made the press suddenly pay attention to you, but for a very wrong reason, causing your parents to go into damage control mode. It made you have to work from home, knowing that things weren’t being done according to your standards when the division was at a critical stage. And it made you want to hide in a closet with your computer so you could do what you really wanted to do: research the probably hot, definitely leather-clad guy who kept you from getting hurt during said kidnapping.

It was really annoying. 

With a sigh, Felicity pushed herself up in bed and ran her fingers through her hair. She knew her parents meant well. She knew they were both worried about her and each of them were trying to deal with their worry in their own ways. For Pepper, that meant shopping trips, fussing about Felicity’s diet, and trying to rope her into every puff piece the local reporters were willing to write. Tony, on the other hand, was trying to see how many favors he could call in with the Avengers to get them to come to Starling City and watch her round the clock.

She really preferred her mom’s method of dealing. Even with having to answer the same questions over and over, each time differently enough so it sounded like a new answer.

At least with working from home she didn’t need to worry about her appearance too much. Not bothering to change out of her sleep shorts and tank top, Felicity headed towards the kitchen of her apartment, desperate for some coffee. But when she heard her parents’ voices, both angry and low, she stopped a few feet from the doorway to listen. 

“I knew this was a bad idea. I told you--I said there were too many whack jobs who would want Felicity’s tech,” her father said. “And you told me she could handle it.”

“Are you saying she didn’t? Because it seems to me that Felicity did all she could in the situation,” Pepper said, her voice even. But Felicity could hear the edge underneath the studied calm. 

Tony snorted. “Yeah, she sat there until some freak in green leather showed up. Which is another problem entirely--why the fuck is this nutjob still running around this city? He knew our daughter’s name, maybe he’s the one who set this all up.” 

“Tony, most of the world knows our daughter’s name!” Felicity winced at the fear and annoyance in her mother’s voice. 

It must have gotten through to her father, because when he spoke again, he sounded more reassuring than angry. “I’m scared, too. I’m scared shitless, Pepp.” 

“I know you are,” Pepper said softly. “But having the Avengers watch her isn’t the answer.” 

“Then what is?” 

Silence was all that Felicity heard. She guessed her parents were looking at each other, doing that silent communication thing they did, like a few of the other couples she knew: Bucky and Natasha, Reed and Sue. When you could figure everything out without speaking. 

Felicity didn’t know what they were thinking. But she was tired of having her decisions made for her. Tired of having her parents fight over her, not with her. She was just as scared as they were--but she was ready to take a stand. 

It seemed as good a time as any to interrupt, so Felicity took a few steps back, then breezed into the kitchen like a young woman who hadn’t just been eavesdropping on her parents. “Please tell me there’s coffee.” 

Both her parents startled slightly, Pepper recovering first. “Of course, sweetheart. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock,” Felicity lied as she poured herself a cup of coffee. Her sleep had been interrupted with dreams for the last week. Mostly nightmares, which were easy to talk about compared to the one very inappropriate dream about the Green Arrow. The one where she babbled at him and he stopped her from talking by kissing her. And other things.

She was really glad she had kept that tidbit to herself now. Not that she would tell them about a sexy dream, because . . . no. That was too embarrassing even for her.

“That’s great, princess.” 

“It really is,” Pepper said, in agreement with Tony. “I was thinking we could go get massages today, and then maybe talk some more about upgrading your security. I know you don’t want a bodyguard, Felicity, but--”

“I don’t. And I won’t accept one,” Felicity said, lowering her coffee cup and holding it in both of her hands. She looked back and forth between her parents, doing her best to look firm and resolute and absolutely not shaking in her pajamas. 

Her parents exchanged a look and then Pepper stepped forward. “Felicity,” she began, only to pause when Felicity held up her hand. 

“I know you’re both worried about me--the fact that you dropped everything to come up here was proof enough of that,” Felicity said gently. “But I don’t want a bodyguard and I don’t need one. What I do need is for you to come with me today and see Starling City through my eyes. We’ll go tour the factory site and visit the office. We’ll get lunch at Big Belly, because they have the best burgers around. And then tonight, we’ll all go to the art auction I was planning to attend. I donated that really ugly brooch Dad’s great-aunt Agnes gave me when I turned sixteen.” 

“The one that looked like a melted baby?” Tony asked.

Pepper rolled her eyes. “It was an original, one-of-a-kind piece designed by Salvador Dali, Tony.” 

“Still looked like a melted baby,” Tony said. 

As her mother opened her mouth to argue, Felicity hid her smile in her coffee cup. There were few things easier to make happen than to set her parents arguing, and she knew every button to push. Artistic works always yielded a good debate. 

“You told me you thought it was ugly, too,” Tony said, cutting Pepper off before turning to Felicity. “And don’t think we missed what you’re doing, princess.”

“What am I doing?” Felicity asked innocently. 

Her father gave her a look. “Nice try. I didn’t think you liked it up here.” 

“But I do like it here,” Felicity said, ready to keep talking, only to stop. Because . . . it was true. She liked Starling City. She liked how stubborn it was, how determined and resolute. It didn’t accept what anyone else thought of it and just kept going about its business. 

“I like Starling City,” she repeated. “But even if I didn’t like it, I can’t leave. I’ve got a division to run, and I’ve missed a week at the office. We all need to get back to work, so I want you to leave knowing that I’m safe here. I’ve got good people looking out for me.” 

“You better not be including that crazy vigilante in that list,” Tony said. “Because no.” 

Felicity fought the urge to roll her eyes. “No, Dad, I’m not.” _Although would it be so bad if he was?_ “I don’t like the whole ‘secret identity’ thing and I don’t agree with it.” _True._ “But unless I cross paths with him again and can tell him to get over the cloak-and-dagger routine, which is really unlikely, I’m not exactly considering the Green Arrow as my silent protector. I can take care of myself, and I know who to call when I need help.” _Uncle Steve, because he would know how to help without freaking out._

Tony looked at her, then grinned. “It’s me, right? You’d call your dear old dad.” 

“Yup,” she said, unable to hold back a grin of her own. Because another way to distract her parents was by flattering her father’s ego. Because then Pepper would have to put him in check. 

“No, she’ll call the police, since they’re closer,” Pepper retorted, then turned to Felicity. “Are you sure about this, Felicity?”

“I’m sure, Mom,” Felicity said, hugging her. “I want to do this my way. How’s it going to look if I go to business meetings with some big hulking guy watching me? It’ll look like I can be taken advantage of, and that’s the last place I want to start negotiating from.” 

Pepper pressed her lips together and nodded. “That’s true.” 

“So let’s go take a look at the factory and the offices, and you can tell me how I can make everything even better,” Felicity said, taking her mother’s arm and smiling at her. “Sound good?”

“You had me when you said burgers,” Tony said. 

“Of course we did,” Pepper said, rolling her eyes before sighing. “All right. It’s a good plan, and we do need to get back to LA.” 

Felicity smiled and kissed Pepper’s cheek. “You do, because I’m sure the company’s falling to pieces without you.” She kissed Tony, too, and headed towards her bedroom to shower and get dressed--but not before she heard his grumbling.

“Maybe the company falls apart without me. It’s my name on the side of all the buildings, you know.” 

“My name, too, Tony,” was her mother’s acerbic reply, which made Felicity snicker as she moved out of earshot. 

XXX

Most people knew that Tony Stark was a genius. But they only thought of him like that when it came to gadgets and technology, or finding ways to stop terrorists or alien invasions. With his reputation and past history, everyone assumed that Pepper was the one to handle the emotional stuff. 

Most people were wrong. 

She had just taken a bite of her burger, tired of waiting to eat until her mother returned from taking a phone call, when her father spoke. “So, this arrow-y guy.” 

“‘This arrow-y guy’, Dad? Really?” Felicity asked around her half-chewed burger. 

“I told your mother you didn’t need etiquette classes because I learned how to chew with my mouth closed without them . . .” Tony said with a smirk. But then his mouth flattened into a straight line. “I don’t like the idea of this guy knowing who you are. Making you into his personal pet project.” 

Setting down her burger with a small, mournful sigh, Felicity picked up a napkin to wipe her mouth and fingers. “I highly doubt I’m going to be a pet project. He wasn’t even there for me, Dad. He was looking for something else, trying to get some kind of intel or something.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, he was in the right place at the right time. His right and my wrong just happened to overlap.” 

Which was her luck, really. Because yeah, it had been a scary and dangerous situation, but the Green Arrow certainly filled out a pair of leather pants _really_ well. But his ability to wear leather wasn’t important. What was important was the fact he was hiding who he was behind a hood and refusing to work with the system. 

Felicity had grown up surrounded by superheroes. She had seen the impossible done, over and over again, by gods and super-soldiers and highly-trained deadly assassins. And none of them lived in the shadows. They all acknowledged that it might be safer to hide--but safer wasn’t better. And Felicity agreed with that. Life wasn’t about being safe. It was about living. Living, making your own mark, being the person you were supposed to be and finding the person who made you happy.

That was all she wanted out of her life. And she knew enough that there was no way a vigilante or a superhero would be the guy for her. 

“I’ve already got Barton looking into this,” Tony said, leaning forward. “He’s pretty pissed that no one told him before now that there’s someone else on his turf.” 

“Please tell me Clint’s not coming here. And why is he so upset? Is there only one walking human disaster/archer allowed on Earth?” Felicity asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“He is gonna be annoyed yet flattered by that description, you know,” her father said. “Clint’s not coming . . . yet. But I still don’t like this hood guy running around in the city where my only daughter lives.” 

Felicity took a sip of her soda and held up a finger. “The only daughter you know of--you could have another one somewhere that could replace--” She stopped as both her words and the expression on her father’s face registered. He looked absolutely gutted. Because she had gone way too far.

“That is not funny, Felicity Maria Stark,” Tony said softly.

“I know,” she said, her head down. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” She lifted her head and took a long look at her father. This was bothering him way more than he had let on. And now that he was getting ready to leave, this was his last chance to talk it over with her. She knew her dad: once he left, he would feel like he didn’t have the right to argue with her about this. 

Reaching out, she grabbed his hand. “Look, the SCPD is working hard to figure out who arranged my kidnapping. And if anything else happens--or I start getting a bad feeling--I promise, I will arrange for protection. But I don’t want to live my life being scared of the dark. I’ll be careful, Dad.” 

He squeezed it tightly and nodded. “Fair enough. Everything looks good, princess.” 

The use of his nickname for her--so inaccurate but so sweet--always made Felicity smile. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Everyone at the office loves you. I tried to find out your secret method of gaining their trust to no avail--is it hookers and blow? Remember you can’t use company funds for that, even if it does improve staff morale.” Tony grinned and took a large bite of his burger. “Damn, that’s good,” he said with a full mouth.

“I know. Mom’s is getting cold,” Felicity said, taking her own, slightly-smaller, bite of her jalapeno burger. 

“If she’s not back by the time I’m done, I’m eatin’ it,” Tony said before he continued taking huge bites, swallowing them down with his chocolate milkshake.

Giggling, Felicity kept eating her burger and did her best to protect her curly fries from her father. Just as he was finishing his food, Pepper returned to the table, sitting down with a sigh.

“Trouble, Mom?” Felicity asked, before slapping at her father’s encroaching hand. 

“Just a few wrinkles that will need to be smoothed over once I’m back in the office,” Pepper said, picking up her burger and taking a small, dainty bite. “Mmm, this is amazing, Felicity,” she said after she finished chewing. 

“Told ya,” Felicity said, sipping her soda. 

How did her mother manage to make eating a messy burger look so elegant? It was magic, Felicity was convinced. Every time she came to Big Belly, she was convinced she would drop her burger in her lap.

“So what’s tonight event? An auction, you said?” Pepper asked Felicity.

“Yeah, for the Starling City Cancer Fund,” Felicity said. “All the movers and shakers will be there.”

Pepper nodded. “That’s good. I’m curious about how society works in Starling City, based on what you’ve said about it.” 

“Well, you’ll see tonight,” Felicity said, shifting a little in her chair as she wondered what her mother meant, but not really sure she wanted to get into it by asking a question. “I thought I’d wear that gold sequined dress you sent me.” 

“Oh, I wanted to see you in that one. How are you going to wear your hair?” 

As the female Starks got lost in their discussion of hair and makeup, Felicity didn’t miss her father tapping away on his phone. She really hoped he had listened to her and felt somewhat reassured. Because the last thing she wanted was for random Avengers to start popping up in Starling City. Not only would it drive the city wild, but there had to be more important situations for a freaking Avenger to be dealing with than dropping in on Tony Stark’s daughter. 

Once her parents left, Felicity resolved, she would find a way into the city’s traffic camera network. She wanted to have a heads-up before any superheroes showed up. And if it happened to give her some footage of the Green Arrow . . . well, it might be handy to have some info on him. 

Just in case. Although Felicity couldn’t exactly come up with a reason.

XXX

The moment that Felicity stepped into the hotel ballroom where the charity auction was being held, a hush went over the room, immediately followed by every conversation in the room resuming at a much higher volume. 

As great as she looked, in her sequined cocktail dress and her hair in smooth curls, she knew the reaction wasn’t for her, but for her parents. It was enough to give a girl a bit of a complex, Felicity thought with amusement. Especially with how the men who hadn’t given her the time of day in the past suddenly came out of the woodwork to talk to Pepper.

“C’mon, princess, let’s check out the bar,” Tony said, putting his hand on her back and steering her away from the door and into the room. 

“Mom asked you not to drink much tonight,” Felicity reminded him as they joined the line for drinks. 

“Didn’t say I couldn’t drink any. And I’m gonna need a drink if I have to stand at your mother’s side and be Mr. Potts tonight.” 

Snickering, Felicity looked around the room. She spotted Laurel and gave her a small wave, and the brunette immediately crossed the room. “Hi,” Laurel said, air-kissing Felicity’s cheek and then squeezing her shoulder. “It’s so good to see you! Are you okay?”

Laurel had called her when news about her kidnapping broke and they had a nice chat. Hearing a friendly voice had helped Felicity a lot--more than she had realized it would. Tommy had even sent her a few texts, which was unexpected but equally nice. She felt like she was finally making friends. 

“Hi, Laurel. I’m good,” she said. “And thank you.” 

“I can’t believe no one noticed what was happening on that patio,” Laurel said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what’s happening in this city, but as both a lawyer and the daughter of a cop, I don’t like it. I hope this doesn’t make you change your mind about Starling.” 

“I think you’re stuck with me,” Felicity said with a grin. “I like it too much around here.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her dad hovering and she rolled her eyes. “Laurel, this is my dad, Tony Stark. Dad, this is Laurel Lance, a new friend of mine.” 

“Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Laurel said smoothly, holding her hand out to Tony. 

“Yep,” her father said, shaking Laurel’s hand. “Daughter of a cop, huh? Don’t suppose I could get his number, give him a call about what’s going on at SCPD?”

“Dad!” Felicity yelped, glaring at him. “Not okay.” 

Her father glared right back, their stare-off only interrupted by Laurel. “No, Felicity, it’s okay. I understand.” She smiled, a bit tightly. “I’m half-tempted to do it, if only to distract him from my love life.” 

“And I’m going to go see what my wife wants to drink. Nice to meet you, Laurel,” Tony said, making a hasty departure. 

With a curious expression, Laurel looked at Felicity and she shook her head. “He still sees me as his princess who has no interest in boys, to the point that he doesn’t like talking to anyone about their relationships when I’m around,” Felicity said, before frowning. “Your dad doesn’t like Tommy?”

“He’s worried that my type is ‘billionaires who will inevitably treat me badly’,” Laurel said with a sigh. “But Tommy isn’t like that anymore--hell, Ollie isn’t like that anymore, either. But dads.” She shrugged her shoulders elegantly and Felicity wished she could pull off that kind of move.

“Tell me about it,” Felicity said with a smile. “My parents have been here all week, but they’re finally heading home tomorrow.” 

“And you brought them here tonight?” Laurel asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Taking a sip of her wine, Felicity nodded. “It’s worked, though. If nothing else, yay, Felicity has a friend!” 

Laurel laughed. “I’m glad you’re here. Tommy’s at the club tonight so I’m on my own.”

“Awesome--my parents are going to be so busy pressing the flesh that I was worried I’d be a wallflower.” 

“Not in that dress,” Laurel said, running her eyes over Felicity. “You look stunning.” 

Her cheeks went pink and Felicity resisted the urge to tug a little on the shorter-than-she-realized skirt. “Thank you. You look amazing, but then, every time I’ve seen you, you look amazing, so . . .” She took a sip of wine to cut off her babble and gestured around the room. “Have you looked at the items up for auction yet?”

“Nope,” Laurel said. “Let’s go find the ugliest item here and guess who got lucky by getting the tax write-off.” 

“Oh, I’m winning that one, because you should see what I donated,” Felicity said, grinning at Laurel as they began moving towards the display cases. 

XXX

As she thumbed through the alerts on her phone and sipped from her second glass of wine, Felicity felt nothing but a giddy sense of relief and the flush of success. Her plan for today seemed to have worked perfectly. Both of her parents had complimented her on the progress of the Advanced Technologies division, they liked Big Belly, and tonight they had seen her with Laurel. It couldn’t have gone any better. 

Alone for the first time all night, with Laurel in the restroom and her parents across the room, Felicity enjoyed the chance to take a break and check her messages. She was just getting ready to see if any spoilers had been posted about _Game of Thrones_ when she heard a throat being cleared and then a very nice male voice.

“Excuse me.” 

Felicity glanced up and then froze. Because . . . holy crap, why was _Oliver Queen_ talking to her?

When she didn’t say anything, a slightly confused look flashed across his face before it vanished, replaced by an expression that seemed calculated to be smooth and charming. “Felicity Stark?” 

Lowering her phone, she tried to nod. Because, wow, the paparazzi photos did not do his eyes justice because they were really blue and she was feeling just a little bit overwhelmed. 

He smiled at her and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.” 

“I know,” she said as she slowly shook his hand, managing not to drop her glass or her phone. “I mean, we’ve been moving in the same circles our entire lives. Except for, you know, those five years. When you were shipwrecked. Which you already know about, since you--since you were there.” 

She was still shaking his hand. Felicity tugged her hand out of his hold, feeling flustered, especially when she noticed that a) he didn’t immediately release her hand when she pulled away and b) his lips were quirking up at the corners like he was fighting a smile. 

“Maybe we moved in the same circles, but I don’t know that we ever spent much time together--because I’d remember you,” Oliver said smoothly, with just a hint of flirtation in his voice. Subtle but definitely there.

It wasn’t like she didn’t get flirted with. It happened a lot. With men her age, men the same age as her father, and everyone in-between. So she had developed a good radar, over the years, for when a man was actually interested in her or if he was flirting for other reasons: because of her last name, because he was bored, because he was trying to prove a point to his buddies, because he was on the outs with his girlfriend and wanted to make that girlfriend jealous. Felicity had seen them all.

So the fact she thought Oliver Queen was flirting with her because he liked her, while at the same time she didn’t believe him for a second--what the hell did that mean?

A quick sip of her wine to give her liquid courage, and then Felicity gave him a smaller version of her ‘let’s keep flirting, please’ smile. “That is a very charming thing to say,” she commented, injecting a bit of skepticism in her voice. 

“Charming is bad?” he asked in amusement. 

“Too much of anything, even a good thing, is bad,” she countered. 

Oliver ducked his head, huffing out a soft almost-laugh. “Really? I’ve never found out how much is too much when it comes to a good thing.” 

“Oh, I have,” Felicity said airily, giving herself a mental fist pump for holding back her immediate thought: mint chocolate chip ice cream, given how good it was going down and how bad it made her ass look when she overindulged too often. And also, she was flirting back with Oliver Queen, and that made her feel as confident as developing her processor. 

“So are you just going around introducing yourself to anyone you don’t know?” she asked him, looking at him over the rim of her wine glass. Not that it was at all a hardship to look at him, because wow. He clearly wasn’t letting go of the body he must have developed while surviving on a deserted island for five years. His shoulders looked incredibly broad in his tailored black suit, his torso narrowing to a slim waist and he was so tall. Not that his height had anything to do with being shipwrecked, but--yeah. Oliver Queen was really pretty, in a rugged, manly, ‘I can chop wood and live off the land while rocking a face full of scruff’ kind of way. 

“Well, there’s a lot of new people here. Starling City changed while I was gone,” he said casually, making it sound like he was on an extended tour of the world’s debauchery capitals and not whatever it was that he had experienced. It was strange. She understood not wanting to talk about what had happened, but to act like it was nothing . . . what must it take out of him? 

Felicity nodded slowly, her eyes locked on his. “So I’ve heard. I’ve only been here a few months, of course, but . . . but I like it here.” 

With looking right at him, she could see a collection of emotions flicker in his eyes, before he smoothed out his face again. “People are certainly talking about Felicity Stark moving to Starling City.” 

God, he was a bad liar. Because no one cared about her, not with his return like the prodigal son. 

“It’s nice of you to say that, but really, I’ve been flying under the radar,” she said, tucking her phone into her clutch. “Everyone’s more interested in you.” 

He shrugged, his shoulders moving under his suit jacket in a very nice way. “No accounting for tastes, then,” he said. “Are you enjoying the auction?” 

“I am,” Felicity said, gesturing towards the displays. “Laurel and I were having fun guessing who donated what.” 

At the mention of his ex-girlfriend, Oliver twitched a little. “You’re friends with Laurel?” he asked, his voice surprised. 

“We’re starting to be friends, I think,” she said slowly. “She was here on her own tonight, since Tommy couldn’t make it.”

“And you know Tommy, too?”

Felicity frowned a little, not sure what to make of this. Because he sounded like he was surprised, which made her wonder just how much he had been talking to his friends lately. But also, he sounded . . . not happy, but maybe pleased? 

With how much Laurel and Tommy both mentioned “Ollie,” she would have thought it would be a natural bridge between herself and Oliver. Because they could at least talk about his friends. But with how little he seemed to know about their current lives, she wondered how far that bridge might take them. Oliver was giving her such weird signals, she didn’t know what to think. 

Giving her head a small shake, Felicity decided to keep this on the surface. To not go beyond small talk. “Ever since he tried to hit on me when I was fifteen. But we’ve both gotten past that now,” Felicity said, giving Oliver a small smile.

The smile that Oliver seemed to have been fighting during their whole conversation suddenly appeared on his face and Felicity literally felt her breath catch. Because . . . wow. A smiling Oliver Queen was something else. And she couldn’t help smiling back. 

And something about their shared smiles made some of the awkward tension ease.

“So how did you get the night off if Tommy’s slaving away at your club?”

“This is one of my mother’s personal charities, but she couldn’t make it tonight,” Oliver said, sipping from his glass of amber liquid. Scotch, Felicity would bet. He seemed like the type to drink scotch and only drive manual transmission cars and other very masculine things.

Felicity nodded, understanding how it was with charity commitments. “I donated something. The brooch that looks like a melted baby, in my father’s words.”

“I gave some ugly Spanish thing. Or my family did,” Oliver said, his eyes flicking towards the displays.

It was the perfect opening to extend this . . . whatever it was. Flirtation? the beginning of a beautiful friendship? Maybe more?

But before Felicity could open her mouth, two things happened. She realized Oliver’s eyes had suddenly become fixed on the display cases of donated artwork. And an African-American man, whose appearance screamed ‘bodyguard’, appeared at Oliver’s side and whispered in his ear.

Taking a step away, Felicity finished her wine and acted like she was suddenly interested in an empty table. A light touch on her shoulder made her turn around to see Oliver very close to her. So close that she felt butterflies break out in her stomach.

“I’m afraid I have to leave,” he said in a low, deep voice. “But I hope we can talk some more, another time?”

She bit her lip gently, then nodded. “I’d like that, Oliver.” She held out her hand. “Your phone.”

His eyebrow quirked, but he reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a beat-up smartphone that was two generations old.

“Oh, poor baby,” she muttered softly as she put in her number. She handed it back, quirking her eyebrow at him. “That phone should be enjoying its golden years in a box in your closet, not working hard like a twenty-year-old.”

“I . . . I will see what I can do about that,” Oliver said as he tucked his phone away, his voice amused yet confused. “Have a good evening, Felicity.”

“Mr. Queen,” the bodyguard said quietly but firmly. Felicity had the sense he had observed everything that had happened between her and Oliver, even if she hadn’t noticed him until now. But she was glad that Oliver had someone like this man watching his back. After all, everyone knew he had been briefly kidnapped not long after his return--it must have sent his family into a tailspin, to have him back only to face losing him again so soon. And he was saved by the Green Arrow, too.

“Yeah, Digg,” Oliver said, glancing at the man and then looking back at Felicity. He smiled a little, mostly the corners of his lips turning up, before he turned and walked away with his bodyguard.

A small frown creased Felicity’s face as she watched him go. What kind of coincidence that both Oliver and herself had been rescued from a kidnapping by Starling’s own vigilante? It was something that connected them, even if the Green Arrow had accidentally saved her.

The next time she talked to Oliver Queen--if there was a next time--she would have to ask him. In a way that he'd actually answer her, instead of brushing her aside. Because Oliver clearly didn’t like questions that made him have to reveal anything about himself.

It was a shame, Felicity thought. She would kind of like to get to know him.

XXX

“Felicity, I didn’t realize you knew Oliver Queen.”

The sound of her mother’s voice made Felicity stop mid-sentence and turn away from Laurel. Laurel, who was Oliver’s ex and was not-so-subtly questioning Felicity about what she and Oliver had talked about. Laurel probably was a very good lawyer, but she wasn’t getting far with Felicity. Because Felicity had been cross-examined too many times by the best: her mother.

And Pepper was gearing up for her best cross-examination yet.

Felicity smiled, a bit tightly, at Laurel. “Laurel, this is my mother. Would you mind giving us a minute?”

“It won’t be for long,” Pepper said pleasantly. “I don’t want to keep Felicity from any of her new friends.”

Laurel, with more grace and tact than Felicity could have ever managed, smiled and nodded. “Of course. Take all the time you need.” And with a look at Felicity, one that she didn’t really understand, Laurel vanished into the crowd.

Leaving Felicity alone with her mother. Pasting a smile on her face for appearance's sake, Felicity faced Pepper. “I can’t really say I know Oliver. That was the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

“Well, you two certainly looked . . . friendly.” Pepper said. “That’s why I’m surprised.”

Attempting to be nonchalant, Felicity shrugged. “He didn’t really remember me. We didn’t talk about anything that interesting. How his friends are becoming mine, how I like Starling, things like that. For a billionaire, his phone was ancient. I wonder if he was never into tech, or if it’s because of the whole, you know--” Felicity paused and made a circular gesture with her hand. “The whole ‘island for five years’ thing,” she concluded.

“I don’t know,” Pepper said, showing that she had actually listened to Felicity's babble. “But you should be prepared for what happens next.”

_What happens next?_ Felicity wrinkled her forehead and Pepper suddenly grinned. “Oliver’s got a nice smile, doesn’t he?”

Calling that sunbeam of an expression ‘nice’ was the grossest of understatements, Felicity though. But she just nodded, literally biting her tongue.

Pepper patted her arm. “It was so nice, you didn’t notice every photographer in the room taking pictures of the two of you. I think your social profile has just gotten a boost.”

Her stomach dropped. How had she not noticed her picture being taken? When it came to paparazzi, Felicity was always hyper-aware of them. It was part of the reason she had the reputation she had--she managed to keep her more embarrassing exploits from happening when cameras were around.

And then she thought about Oliver’s smile and the answer was clear. Clear and a little nerve-wracking.

“Is Dad going to tease me about this?” Felicity asked with a sigh, before a much worse thought occurred to her. “Oh, God, he’s not putting on his other suit so he can go have a talk with Oliver, is he?” she asked, her eyes wide.

Laughing, Pepper shook her head. “No, he’s talking to the mayor. Which means we should go rescue him.” 

“Dad or the mayor?” Felicity asked with an arched eyebrow.

Pepper snickered and linked arms with Felicity. “We shall see.”

She laughed and walked with her mother, but Felicity’s mind was a million miles away. Because she had a feeling that things were about to change.

End, Chapter Two


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changing things up a little by giving everyone a look at what Oliver’s thinking about. Spoiler: it’s mostly Felicity. :-) 
> 
> If you’re interested, I wrote Oliver’s POV for his first meeting with Felicity as the Green Arrow. You can read that [at my Tumblr](http://dettiot.tumblr.com/post/119466872477/pov).

The Starling City Opera Company was supposed to be pretty good. Oliver had never really cared for classical music, though, so when a Queen was needed to represent the family at one of their performances or galas, Oliver had let his mother or sister take that bullet.

But that was before he discovered Felicity Stark was a fan of classical music. Even the basic Internet search he was capable of revealed several photos of her attending music events over the last four years, ever since she started doing the social scene independent of her parents. 

So here he was, making small talk with people he had known his whole life and drinking bad champagne during the interval of Aida, all in the hope he might encounter one woman. 

Not exactly Oliver Queen’s MO. But then, who was Oliver Queen anyway? He wasn’t so sure. When he was the Green Arrow--a code name that he still couldn’t help thinking was kind of lame--things made sense. He had the List as his roadmap and Digg as his backup and sounding board. Everything was simple.

It was when he tried to be Oliver that things got messy. It made him long for the days when things were easy. When his mother always thought the best of him, when Thea looked at him like he hung the moon, when Laurel was always willing to accept what he gave her. 

Now, his mother was constantly disappointed he didn’t want to step up at Queen Consolidated, Thea acted like she could care less about his opinion, and Laurel . . . well, even if she wasn’t with Tommy, there was no way they could go back to what they once had. Because the conversations they had shared right after he returned had made very clear that there wasn’t a way for them to go forward. 

A flash of blonde hair made Oliver turn his head, right in the middle of Carter Bowen’s pompous prattling. And of course the dick called him on it. “I’m sorry, Oliver, this must be a bit over your head.” 

It wasn’t Felicity. And the annoyance he felt at that fact bled into his voice when he turned back to Carter. “Even though I was gone for five years, I can still see when someone is in love with the sound of his voice.” 

Carter’s eyes went wide at the clear insult, while glances were exchanged by the people who had been listening in. A few flashes went off, guaranteeing that tomorrow morning there would be articles about a Bowen-Queen feud. Fortunately, the lights in the chandeliers blinked, signalling the start of the next act, and everyone began returning to their seats. 

Everyone except Oliver, who had clenched his jaw as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He didn’t follow the crowd back into the auditorium, instead turning and heading towards the exit. 

On near-silent feet, Digg fell into place beside him, matching Oliver’s quick pace. “Not staying for the rest of the performance, sir?” His voice was bland and professional, the perfect way for a bodyguard/driver to sound. 

“No--time to cross a name off the List,” he gritted out. “Because I need to hit someone.” 

“Mm-hmm,” Digg muttered, under his breath but loud enough for Oliver to hear. He stopped and looked at the man who had quickly become more than just a bodyguard. 

“You got something to say, Digg?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Digg shook his head. “No, sir.”

Somehow, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Cut the crap, Digg.” 

“Just noticing that lately you’ve been making the social rounds more frequently, Mr. Queen,” Digg said, keeping up the pretense of being only his driver, even though they were alone. Oliver appreciated Digg’s discretion, but it was also annoying as hell. Because it let him be cryptic and evasive. 

Giving his head a shake, Oliver turned and headed out of the symphony hall, letting Digg direct him towards the car but otherwise staying silent. 

Because he could guess what Digg was thinking: that he was frustrated because despite partaking of Starling’s ongoing round of balls, charity events, and parties, Oliver hadn’t encountered Felicity Stark again--in either of his personas. And while he was glad that Felicity hadn’t gotten into a situation that would require the Green Arrow’s services, he _was_ frustrated that he kept spending time with people he couldn’t stand, all so he could--

So he could what? Give the paparazzis more fodder about Oliver ‘finding a new candidate for his Queen’? Deal with his mother’s hints about how an alliance with Stark Industries would be beneficial for QC? Talk to a smart, beautiful, interesting woman who had given him her number? A number that he hadn’t used? 

He really needed to hit someone. 

The next time Diggle spoke to him, it was to ask who Oliver wanted to target tonight. Nearly sighing in relief at their conversation shifting to strategy, he began running through the names on the List, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that perhaps he could be doing . . . more. That saving the city meant more than just following the List. 

Once he was in his leathers, hood up and bow in hand, Oliver let go of the doubts and the questions. He had to, in order to do this. This was the simple part of his life. 

And that was what it was: simple. Because everything about crossing off another name from the List was easy. He burst into the office of a weasley accountant who kept the books for various mob families in Starling, made some menacing vague threats, and the bean counter crumpled and agreed to leave town. 

There should have been a sense of accomplishment, maybe even pride, at getting the guy to back down. Tonight, it felt hollow and empty. And Oliver was still spoiling for a fight, his body tensed like the proverbial bowstring. 

Standing on the roof of the accountant’s office building, he swept his eyes along the streets, cursing his short-sightedness. He should have just gone to the Glades, done a patrol. There would be plenty of purse snatchers or assaults-in-progress for him to stop. And it would make more of a difference to the people of Starling City than getting rid of some low-life CPA. 

Oliver drew up short, then rubbed a gloved hand over his forehead. No. Going after muggers or rapists, it was dealing with the symptoms. He had to tackle the disease: the one percenters who took advantage of the people of his city. This was the path he should be on. This was the suit he had made for himself, as surely as he had made the one he was wearing by taking Yao Fei’s hood and grafting it onto green leather, and that suit still fit. 

But if there was any hope of him being able to sleep even a little tonight, he needed to get to the Glades and release his energy. 

A grappling arrow was nocked automatically before Oliver caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw clumps of people exiting the Starling Children’s Museum, the large banners hanging from the front of the marble edifice proclaiming the grand opening of a new exhibit: The World of Technology. 

Without conscious thought, Oliver fired the arrow across the street, towards a building whose roof was closer to the street. He secured the end of the cable, then slid along it to the lower building, tucking into a roll as he landed which sent the roof’s gravel flying. Then he was turning to crouch behind the parapet, watching the people leave the museum in pairs or small groups. 

Watching for the blonde hair of the woman he was convinced would appear at any moment. 

He didn’t have to wait long to see Felicity. She walked out by herself, a soft smile on her face as she spoke to someone on the phone. Maybe one of her parents, or a friend, or--

A boyfriend. 

Just because he hadn’t found any information on whether she was dating someone, it was very much in the realm of possibility that there was a man who could put that smile on the face of Felicity Stark. A man who knew her well enough to immediately know that Felicity would prioritize going to any kind of tech-related event. 

His eyes lingered on her as she walked down the museum’s steps, her free hand lifting up the skirt of her gown, giving glimpses of her feet in an epically high pair of heels. If she was standing before him, in those heels, she would barely have to tilt her head back to look at him. Not like it had been at their first meeting, when her eyes locked on his and her hair slipped behind her shoulder, hanging down her back with how much she had to lean back to meet his gaze. No, this time, she would be tall enough that he would be able to feel her breath wash over his lips-- 

Wait. What the fuck? 

Oliver gave his head a shake and pressed the Bluetooth headset that was in his ear. “Digg.” 

“Copy,” Digg said through a crackle of static.

“Where are tonight’s hot spots in the Glades?” 

There was a long pause, then Digg spoke. “You’re not ready to call it a night?”

Against his will, Oliver found his eyes flicking back towards the street, where Felicity was stepping into a cab. Whoever she was talking to said something that made her laugh, her head falling back. He could hear only the barest whisper of her laughter, and suddenly he wanted to be standing right beside her, getting to hear what it sounded like when she laughed. 

“Not even close,” Oliver said.

XXX

Classy little bistros with outdoor seating weren’t exactly Oliver’s scene. They never had been, even before the island had given him a different view on al fresco dining. But his mother had asked him to take Thea out to lunch, and Thea had picked this place, so here he was, waiting at the curb for Digg to arrive with his sister. 

Waiting and trying to keep his mind on his family situation, instead of on Felicity. 

Because more and more, it appeared like his mother was neck-deep in something bad. Something that led to Walter’s kidnapping, that connected to the List and even to the sinking of the Queen’s Gambit. 

His mother was at least a little bit responsible for the five years of hell he had experienced. And she bore some of the blame for his father--her first husband--shooting himself in the head. 

Add in a sister that was struggling with the allure of drugs after raising herself when her family fell apart around her . . . well, perhaps he shouldn’t be so hard on himself for wanting to think about Felicity Stark. 

But she was a distraction. A very pleasant distraction, but one he shouldn’t be letting himself enjoy. After what happened with McKenna and with Helena, he should resign himself to accepting the truth: as long as he had his mission, dating was not a wise choice. And deep down, he knew it. Why else had he not called Felicity? Because the last thing he should do is pull her into all this. 

If he thought he could keep it casual, he might consider it. But he was Oliver Queen and she was Felicity Stark. A ten-minute conversation at a gala had led to a small explosion in publicity, with photographers stalking his move and plenty of stupid articles hinting at a wedding in six months. If they went out on an actual date, it would be documented and dissected for days, making the press hungry for more--and the last thing Oliver needed was the paparazzi following him. 

There was also the not-so-small problem that Oliver wasn’t sure he could keep up the act around Felicity. Even in that ten minutes at the art auction, he had felt himself responding to her, felt his walls lowering. 

She was charming and smart and sparkling. She made him think of the few camp fires he had enjoyed on Lian Yu, how the light and heat could push back the darkness for a little while. Yet when the fire went out, the darkness was even more crushing. 

So the smart thing to do--the kind thing to do--was to keep himself away from her. 

“Oliver Queen, as I live and breathe.” 

If he didn’t have bad luck, he’d have no luck at all, Oliver thought grimly. Then, wiping his face clear of anything other than bland friendliness, he turned around to face Felicity. 

“Hey,” he said, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The spring sunshine was bright, which explained why Felicity was carrying a gray blazer over her arm, leaving her in a bright blue dress with a full skirt. Her hair was back in a ponytail and, for the first time, she was wearing the glasses that were her apparent trademark. 

“So tell me,” she said, folding her arms at her waist and tilting her head to the side, “it’s all your phone’s fault, right?” 

Oliver frowned, feeling his forehead wrinkle in confusion. “My phone’s fault?” 

She nodded, her ponytail bobbing slightly. “Your phone finally had more than it could take, gave up the ghost, became an ex-phone. And that’s why you haven’t called me.” 

Being challenged like this--and the surprise at being challenged--was new. He wasn’t surprised by many people. Wasn’t disarmed as thoroughly as she disarmed him. 

Even though it went against everything that he had resolved to do not five minutes ago, Oliver couldn’t help the small smile that quirked the corners of his lips. “Maybe it did. Or maybe I’m just taking advantage of the built-in excuse you’ve now given me, to hide my playboy ways.” 

“Ah, playboys. So easy to manipulate,” Felicity said, grinning at him. “Because, you see, I didn’t give you my real number.” 

“So how do you know I didn’t try calling you and felt very disappointed when I realized you gave me a fake number?”

“I don’t know,” Felicity said with a shrug, her grin fixed in place. “But I’d expect you to be upset with me about the number I gave you, instead of smiling at me.” 

He took a step closer to her, noticing how her eyes widened ever-so-slightly, and leaned in towards her. “What number did you give me, Felicity?” 

“It might be a number that would have authorized a delivery. For a great gross of packing peanuts,” Felicity said, her face innocent and friendly but her eyes sparkling with mischief. It was a good look on her. A very good look. 

Unable to stop his smile from growing, Oliver nodded a little. “And how much is a great gross?”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking down to his lips and then back to his eyes. It made Oliver want to step closer to her, but he made himself stay very, very still.

“Seventeen hundred and twenty-eight boxes. Of packing peanuts,” she said softly. 

“Hmm,” he said, gazing down at her. “That is an excellent prank.” 

Felicity ducked her head slightly and lifted her shoulders, in acknowledgement of his praise. “Thanks.” 

“And I never want you and Tommy to join forces against me, because I would be destroyed.” 

That made her laugh, made him remember crouching on that rooftop and wishing he could hear her laugh. And it was great to hear it . . . but even better to know that he had caused that amazing sound. 

“So . . . if I got your help with getting a new phone, would you give me your real number?” 

Her mouth fell open slightly, and then her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and even though Oliver knew he shouldn’t have asked the question, especially not that flirtatiously, he wasn’t sorry at all for asking it. Not when he got that reaction, the one that made the whole world fall away. 

But then, before Felicity could say anything, he saw Thea and Diggle over her shoulder, approaching them. 

Damn it. Bad timing to go with bad luck. 

“Ollie?” Thea’s voice was suspicious, like she suspected him of being on the verge of blowing her off. Like he would have done before the island.

“Hey, Speedy,” he said, kissing her cheek quickly. He rested his hand on her back, pulling her around to face Felicity. “Felicity, this is my sister Thea. And Thea, this is Felicity Stark.” 

Thea looked up at him, her eyes narrowed for a moment, before she turned to smile at Felicity. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“It’s really nice to meet you, too. I love your outfit--Dior, right?” Felicity said, gesturing to Thea’s sleeveless crop top and miniskirt, both in pure white. 

“Right,” Thea said, sounding less hostile and guarded. “Thank you. I just got it and decided to break it out for lunch with Ollie.” 

Felicity’s eyes flicked to him, a quick smile appearing on her face before looking back to Thea. “I just can’t see your brother as an ‘Ollie’.” 

“It fit him better before, but if he still calls me ‘Speedy’, I’m not going to stop calling him ‘Ollie’,” Thea said, smirking a little. 

“Speedy is a fantastic nickname,” Felicity said. “I had a boyfriend at MIT who wanted to call me ‘Flick’.” She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. 

“So maybe Speedy is the second-worst nickname ever,” Thea said, grinning up at Oliver before looking at Felicity. “Would you like to join us for lunch?”

Not only had Felicity already become friends with his friends, now she was effortlessly charming his sister. It shook him up a little, seeing how easily Felicity slotted into his life. And what shook him even more was the amount that he wanted her to join them for lunch. But when she smiled regretfully and shook her head, he told himself that it was for the best. 

“I wish I could, but I have to get back to work. But it was great meeting you, Thea, and Oliver--” She paused and looked at him, then smiled. “Give me your number. You won’t call me, so I’ll call you.” 

“And if you don’t give her your number, I will,” Thea said, smirking more. 

Rolling his eyes a little, acting like the embarrassed big brother, Oliver couldn’t help feeling a flutter of something in his chest. Desire, longing, contentment? He didn’t recognize it. But when Felicity smiled at him after he recited his phone number for her. When Felicity cheerfully said goodbye and walked away with her skirt swishing around her knees. When Thea nudged his shoulder and said, “I like her.” 

He knew he wanted to keep feeling it, even if his mind told him he shouldn’t. 

XXX

Rolling his shoulders a little, Oliver dropped his bow on one of the metal tables and turned to Digg. “I know what you're going to say.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep saying it until it gets through that thick skull of yours. Is that how you survived the island? Sheer stubbornness?” Digg asked, sounding mostly amused but also slightly frustrated.

Oliver didn’t bother to respond to that, choosing to unzip his jacket and pull it off.

“Neither of us are the most tech-savvy of guys, Oliver,” Digg said. “I know you can’t just go to the local Tech Village for computer help, but if you’re going to keep doing this, you need someone to handle the computer stuff.”

“I know that!” Oliver barked, his frustration at another failed mission boiling over. “Believe me, I know.”

Digg pursed his lips “Okay, so we’re on the same page. So what are we gonna do about it?”

It was clear that Digg was trying to handle him without appearing like he was. Honestly, it didn't bug Oliver, like when other people tried. Like when his mother tried and failed, even though she was one of the people he was closest to. 

But more than trying to handle him, Digg was offering an olive branch. And Oliver knew that he needed Digg. He had meant to do all this--be the Green Arrow, right his father’s wrongs, save Starling City--on his own. Now that he had John Diggle’s help, though, Oliver was realizing how important back up was. For more than just survival. 

Until this point, using the List had been enough to guide him--to guide them. But more and more, it was becoming clear that dirty secrets and powerful lies were being hidden in technology--in encrypted cell phones and on laptops, locked away on servers that neither of them could figure out. 

He could scare the names on the List, but without evidence, there was no way to prevent them from returning to crime once the fear wore off. And beyond that, Oliver knew he was failing in other ways.

Like not being able to track Deadshot, the assassin who had killed Diggle’s brother. 

That was why Oliver responded to Digg’s olive branch and wracked his brain for some kind of solution. “I suppose I could check at QC. See if there’s anyone in the IT department that might help us, no questions asked.”

Even as he said it, Oliver didn’t like the idea. And neither did Digg, from the expression on his face.

“There’s already too much to connect you with the Green Arrow, your arrest for vigilantism aside,” Digg said, pointing out the obvious problem. “And I don’t want to bring in someone who can’t protect themselves.”

Blowing out a breath, Oliver nodded. He picked up his gray sweatshirt and pulled it on. “We’ll find someone.” 

“Mmm,” Digg said. “Speaking of finding someone, but in a different context . . .”

Oliver looked up, not understanding where his partner was going with this. 

“For a guy with a playboy rep, you don’t have much game around a woman you’re interested in,” Digg said, holding his cell phone out to Oliver. The phone’s screen displayed a paparazzi photo of Oliver and Felicity from this afternoon. 

Taking the phone from Digg, Oliver sighed softly. He thought he had heard a few shutters when they were talking outside the restaurant, but he hadn’t spotted any photographers. But even worse was how Digg was right: he was practically _gazing_ at Felicity, looking at her like she was the most amazing thing ever created. 

“That is some serious heart-eyes going on,” Digg said with raised eyebrows.

With a scoff that he hoped hid his discomfort, Oliver handed Digg back his phone. “You’ve been spending too much time around Thea.” 

Digg eyed him for a long moment. “I don’t get it. You’ve dated since you came back. You’re clearly interested. What’s stopping you now?” 

“Given that my last girlfriend got shot by the girlfriend before her? Seems like a sign I shouldn’t be dating,” Oliver said with more than a touch of sarcasm.

“McKenna is--was--a cop; getting shot is in the job description,” Digg replied. “And Helena was crazy, but you felt for her situation, man. But just because it went badly both times doesn’t mean you should be some monk or something. Especially since you like the girl.” 

He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want Digg making him rethink his decision. Because damn it, he didn’t want to have to make the decision in the first place. He didn’t want to think about the risks any woman would face, getting involved with him. Not because of the Green Arrow side of him--but what was involved in dating Oliver Queen. The press, the messiness of his family, and then his five years on the island: it was a lot for any woman to deal with. 

And even though Felicity was probably better-prepared than most women for handling high-pressure dating, he was hesitating. Holding back. Protecting her . . . or maybe just protecting himself.

“If I did like her . . . the last thing I should do is get close to her,” Oliver said slowly.

“You know, this martyr complex you’re starting to develop is troubling,” Digg said, pointing a finger at him. “Just because you’ve got this crusade doesn’t mean you don’t also deserve a life. Something that’s for Oliver.”

It sounded so easy when Diggle said it. The idea that he could have . . . more. That in the midst of all of this darkness and hardness and danger, he could have something . . . warm. Soft. Hopeful. Something that pushed away the darkness for a while. 

On Lian Yu, anything that was close to a good moment was viewed with suspicion. Because inevitably, the moment was crushed under something bad. But he wasn’t on Lian Yu anymore. 

“So . . . you’re saying I should ask Felicity out,” Oliver said, looking at Diggle.

The other man snorted. “I think if you don’t, she will. And if you don’t have a good way to turn her down, it’s just gonna be awkward at the next gala. Your mom was just saying the other day how nice it was to see you being part of society. Meeting people. Meeting someone who could be a daughter-in-law, in other words.” 

If that was what his mother was thinking, it meant that eventually she would start asking him questions. And so would Thea, now that she had met Felicity and seen him around her. And his mother and his sister would be a lot more pushy than Digg was being. 

“I don’t know anything about Felicity Stark beyond what I’ve seen, Oliver,” Digg said, approaching him. “But what I’ve seen? She seems like someone real. And that’s something you need.” 

Oliver opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say but knowing he needed to say something, when his phone began ringing. Pulling it out and looking at the display, he wasn’t sure if it was another example of his bad luck, or a sign that his luck was changing. 

Because it was Felicity. 

“You gonna answer that?” Digg asked in amusement. 

Giving Digg a glare with little real heat, Oliver pressed the button to accept the call. “Hello?” 

There was a soft gasp, and then Felicity’s voice came right into his ear. “Your phone works! Hallelujah.” 

He ducked his head, folding his free arm over his chest as he held his phone to his ear. “You know, if you help me get a new phone, you won’t be able to keep making that joke.” 

“That’s why I’m gonna ride it into the ground before it’s too late,” Felicity said, her voice breezy yet tinny, like she had him on speaker. “Speaking of riding--” She let out a soft pant and Oliver lifted his head, trying to figure out what he was hearing. 

“I’m at the gym on a bike,” she explained between pants. “Sorry for the multi-tasking, but I’m nearly done and I didn’t want to call too late, in case you were an early-to-bed-early-to-rise type. Although with running a club, I doubted that.” 

And just like that, he was smiling. “It’s never too late to call, Felicity.” 

“Awesome!” she said, letting out a deep breath. “To hear that and to be done with this instrument of torture.” 

His amusement was so great, he couldn’t help letting out a soft huff of laughter. “No rest for the vice-presidents, huh?” 

“How did you know I’m a vice-president?” 

She sounded so surprised that Oliver frowned a little. Yeah, they moved in the same social circles, the paparazzi covering them their entire lives--but she thought he hadn’t known something so basic about her? Maybe she was more aware of his playboy reputation than he had realized, to the point that she thought he hadn’t considered anything about her beyond her appearance before he had introduced himself. 

Yet even though he might know basic details about Felicity, he didn’t know _her_. And he wished he could find out everything about her. There was a . . . there was a pull, something about her that made him want to get closer. Made both of them want to get closer. But with the secrets he was keeping, he didn’t know if he could. Or should. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. 

“Like I said, it’s hard not to know about Felicity Stark,” he said, turning a little so Digg wasn’t in his line of sight. “Although . . . maybe we--we could go to lunch, so I can see what else I can learn about you.” 

There was a long pause, and then a soft laugh. “You are so lucky, Oliver Queen.” 

“Lucky?” he asked in confusion. 

“Lucky that I’m willing to have lunch with you despite that _horrible_ line. Did that actually work on anyone, ever?” 

It wasn’t that different from what McKenna had said to him, when he had asked her out. Calling him on his crappy lines, which had made him feel flustered. But this was different. Because that had been just as much about Arrow business as anything else. This? Asking Felicity out? It didn’t have anything to do with his hood. 

Even if she was a genius with computers--an actual genius. Someone who might be willing to help him . . . 

Wait. No. What was he thinking? There was no way he could make Felicity a part of this. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. He had dated McKenna because it was useful to have an inside connection to the SCPD. And while he had liked her . . . what he felt for her didn’t compare to the feelings that Felicity stirred up inside him. 

“Earth to Oliver,” Felicity said quietly. “You still there, or did your phone finally shuffle off its technological coil?”

“I’m here,” he said quickly, brought out of his head. He took a breath. “You’re right, I am very lucky that you’re willing to have lunch with me.” 

“Well, it’s not just you who’s lucky--it’s not everyday I get to have lunch with someone who’s allegedly been on the shortlist for People’s Sexiest Man Alive twice.” Felicity’s voice was teasing, but he got the sense that she knew more than she was letting on. 

And it intrigued him. 

XXX

“Sure you don’t want to stop for some flowers, Oliver? Maybe some chocolates?” 

“Very funny, Digg,” Oliver said, climbing out of the Bentley and buttoning his suit jacket, glancing at the restaurant where he and Felicity had arranged to meet for lunch. “I’ll call you when I’m done.” 

Digg nodded and Oliver walked into the restaurant, feeling a minor fluttering of nerves. He did his best to ignore them as he looked for Felicity, spotting her at a table tucked away in a relatively private part of the restaurant. And nowhere near any windows. He felt his lips quirk up in a smile as he approached her. 

“Someone’s taken Evading the Photographers 101,” he said, his hand landing lightly on her shoulder for a moment. He almost leaned down to kiss her cheek, but something made him hold back. 

Felicity smirked at him. “I got an A plus in that, unlike some people.” 

Slowly drawing his fingers away from her shoulder, Oliver took a seat directly across from Felicity, enjoying the sight of her. Her hair was down today, in loose curls, but her glasses were perched on the end of her nose. In a silky blouse the color of an oyster shell, she looked oh-so-touchable. It was probably for the best he had only touched her shoulder. 

“Believe me, I was better at it than anyone gives me credit. Because only a tenth of what I did made it into the papers,” he said, resting his arms lightly against the table. 

“Oooh,” Felicity said, propping one elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand. “Tell me something that you kept quiet.” 

“Looking to find out all my secrets, huh?” he asked, dropping his napkin in his lap. 

At his words, Felicity straightened up, her face becoming serious. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry--” 

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, trying to reassure her. “I understand. Everyone’s got questions.” 

She pressed her lips together and nodded her head. “I hate mysteries. It’s part of what makes me good at what I do, I think,” she said softly. “And you’re a really big mystery, Oliver. But I don’t want to be someone who pushes you for more than you’re willing to give. I hate people who do that to me, and I’m a ‘practice what you preach’ kind of girl. And that whole saying is really weird, because religious leaders seem to forget it all the time, when they’re the ones who should be doing it, and--I’m going to stop talking now.” 

For a moment, Oliver just looked at her. Really looked at her, noticing how in spite of her babble and flushed cheeks, she was calm. Her eyes were locked on him, all her attention was focused on him. It was . . . it was a good feeling. Something about her made him feel settled, at ease. He wanted to keep feeling like this. 

Giving her a small smile, he tilted his head. “So how does solving mysteries connect to working on computers?” 

Felicity’s answering smile was bright and full of relief. “You sure you want to ask me that?” 

“I’m sure,” he said, leaning forward a little. And actually meaning it. He wanted to know why she liked technology so much. 

“When a computer doesn’t work, when it’s not doing what you want, you’re always left wondering why. Is it me? Did I do something wrong? Or is it the computer? How do I fix this? How can I improve it? There’s all these questions, and I get to answer them. It’s amazing,” Felicity said, smiling up at the waiter and asking about today’s specials. 

Oliver listened to the specials, listened to Felicity ask questions and smiled as she apologized for being so particular--”But I have a nut allergy so I have to ask”--and made his own choice for lunch. But through it all, he was thinking. Wondering if there was some way he could make this work: having Felicity as part of his life while getting her help with his other life.

“So, you need a new phone,” Felicity announced once the waiter left. 

Stirring himself out of his head again, Oliver looked at her. “According to you, yes.” 

“According to anyone who’s seen your phone, Oliver,” she said, tilting her head to one side, her hair sliding around her shoulders. “And I guessed you’re still catching up on all the technology changes during the last five years, and, well, everything else that happened, so . . .” 

She lifted her purse into her lap and rummaged around in it, then produced a small box and held it out to him. “Ta-da.” 

“Did you get me a phone?” he asked in surprise, even as he took the box and saw, quite clearly, that it was a phone. A Stark Phone, to be precise. 

“It’s not the newest model, because I didn’t want to throw you right into the deep end of the pool,” Felicity explained, pushing her glasses up a little and speaking quickly. “And yes, it is a Stark Phone, but I really do think it’s the best cell phone on the market, and not just because I helped work on it while I was at MIT. This phone is a real workhorse--it can handle being knocked around. And it hits a good balance between cool features and useful ones, so I hope you like it. And if you don’t, that’s fine, you can just get one that you like better and you don’t have to say anything to me--” 

“Felicity,” Oliver said, reaching out and touching her hand, which made her stop talking. He gave her a small smile, which she returned sheepishly. 

“When I get nervous, I talk a lot.” 

He nodded, slotting this piece of information into his picture of her. It wasn’t a side of her that he had realized existed until now, because she was usually so polished. She was always herself, with funny expressions or turns of phrase, but she knew how to give a speech and make small talk. So it was . . . surprising. To hear her talk so much, to let her mouth run away from her. 

Maybe she was feeling the same way he did: intrigued and interested, wanting to know more, but hesitant at the same time. Unsure about taking a step closer. 

Looking down, Oliver felt his heart skip a beat. Not only had he not drawn his hand away from hers . . . he had tucked the tips of his fingers just under hers. He was holding her hand. Just barely, but he was definitely holding her hand.

And he liked it. 

Her skin was so smooth and soft against his callouses, the warmth of her hand seeping into his. He didn’t want to let go, but he knew he had to, before she realized what he was doing. 

Not to mention he still hadn’t thanked her for the damn phone he was holding in his other hand.

“Felicity?” 

Her eyes, which had been looking anywhere but at him, slowly lifted to meet his. He gave her a small smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, but I appreciate it.” 

The way her shoulders dropped as the tension flowed out of her, how her face lit up and she gave him the biggest smile . . . 

Oh, he was in so much trouble. And he was about to double-down.

Oliver found himself smiling a bit wider. He casually let go of her hand to open up the box and draw out the phone. “You do realize this means you have to explain everything to me. You’re now my tech support, Felicity Stark.” 

Her laugh was even better than it had been yesterday, because it was fuller, richer, less restrained. “Which means you’re getting the best.” 

Felicity moved her chair closer to his and started explaining the features of the phone. She encouraged him to do whatever he wanted, to press buttons to see what happened. She grinned when he was surprised and made faces when the phone didn’t work like it was supposed to. They barely paid any attention to their food or anything else, as Oliver slowly got comfortable with his new phone. 

The more time he spent with her, the more trouble he would be in. He really shouldn’t be considering finding a way to bring her the gadgets that the Green Arrow recovered, having her help him without realizing it. He should be focusing on finding a way to ask her out for a second date. 

Why was the idea of dating Felicity Stark so much scarier than taking the risk of her discovering his secret identity? 

End, Chapter 3


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all will probably love this chapter, until you reach the end. So enjoy! :-)

Leaning back in her spinny chair, Felicity let herself swivel gently from side to side, getting lost in her thoughts. Not that she should, since her thoughts right now were most definitely not on the renovation delays affecting the factory in the Glades, the repeated attempts to hack SI, or the training of the new employees. 

No, her thoughts were all tangled up in two men. Men who sparked similar yet different reactions in her: extreme confusion. 

And it was a sign of what her life was like that the guy in green leather was less confusing than the billionaire. 

It hadn’t been hard for Felicity to crack the security encryption on Starling City’s traffic cameras . . . or on the SCPD’s electronic files. In the weeks since her parents had left and she had really begun her investigation, she had gathered quite a lot of evidence about the Green Arrow’s movements and patterns. And all the data pointed to a change. The death count attributed to him was dropping, for one thing. Not by a lot, but after averaging twelve deaths a month, there had been only a handful of killings linked to the Green Arrow in the last four weeks. There was also the change in who he was targeting. Instead of just going after the elite of Starling City, too, he was doing more to help the wrongfully accused and protect the helpless. 

Why was he changing? Felicity needed to find out more, because she wasn’t sure she had enough information. Or at least, she wanted to gather more intel before she started considering if her instincts were right. 

That he wasn’t working alone anymore. 

With what she knew about costumed crime-fighters--she wouldn’t call the Green Arrow a hero, even if he _was_ killing less--when something changed, you needed to pay attention. Look for the reason why. Because change could lead to chaos. 

Nine times out of ten, the reason for the change in style or methods was because something had changed for the person behind the mask. She had seen it for good (like when Clint started working with Kate) and for bad (her father backing the Superhero Registration Act and being at odds with Uncle Steve) so she was curious about what had happened with the Green Arrow. 

Not as curious as she was about Oliver, though. Because . . . it shouldn’t be possible to feel so in sync with someone she didn’t know anything about. 

Oh, she knew plenty about him. Felicity knew all sorts of facts about Oliver Queen. He was much more serious than the version of himself that appeared in the tabloids. He loved his sister completely, even if she was driving him up the wall with her teenage antics. He liked fast motorcycles and Scotch, hated opera, and had eyes that told you exactly what he was feeling. 

But she still didn’t feel like she knew him, like she understood him. And she wanted to understand him. A lot.

She liked Oliver. She liked spending time with him, liked talking to him--even if he never wanted to talk much about himself and kept directing the conversation back to her. He always listened to her so intently, his oh-so-blue eyes fixed on her, even when she went off on some babbling tangent. And then he’d smile a little or huff out a small laugh, and she felt good. She felt like she was maybe making his life better. Happier. 

Oliver was a man who deserved to be happy, she thought. And if Felicity could help with that, she wanted to do all she could--more than she could. 

After all, the guy had spent five years on a deserted island, facing God only knew what, and somehow managed to survive. She understood not wanting to talk about it. Of course there were things he wanted to keep to himself. But why did he act so flippantly when he talked about his past? Made jokes about living on coconuts or brushed aside his pain like it was nothing? 

Why was he so determined to make everyone think he was still just some dumb playboy? 

Felicity couldn’t and wouldn’t buy the image he was trying to push. She knew those five years had changed him, had made him different. Not that she wanted to go down the road of comparing the guy she was maybe-dating with her father, but . . . Tony Stark had spent three months in a cave and had been reborn. Oliver Queen had spent five years on an island but acted like he was still the same man. 

It was impossible that he was the same man, even if that was what he was trying to convince everyone to believe. 

And since she was on the verge of falling for Oliver, she wanted to know what kind of man he really was. 

Sighing, Felicity sat up in her chair and picked up her red pen, trying to focus on editing the request for proposals that one of the teams had been working on. Yet her mind kept wandering. 

Tonight, for the first time, Oliver was actually picking her up for dinner. For the last few weeks, things had slowly been progressing in their not-only-friendship. They had gradually fallen into the habit of having lunch twice a week, exploring all the excellent food on offer in Starling. Every weekend, they usually wound up at the same charity events or benefits, meeting there and spending most of the evening together before going their separate ways. But they had never gone out on something that felt like an official date, until tonight. 

Her nerves were getting out of control. Because what if he stood her up? What if he called with one of those charming, ridiculous excuses he sometimes used on her? Because nearly every week, there had been a lunch he had to cancel due to something like a scavenger hunt. Or an event he said he would attend, only for Felicity to receive a text saying he had spilled a latte all over himself and couldn’t make it.

They weren’t excuses--they were lies. But Felicity found that they didn’t make her angry. They made her curious. Why was he trying to pull the wool over her eyes? He was well-aware of how smart she was and how much she wanted to solve any mystery she encountered. They both knew that she saw through him and knew he was holding something back. 

Yet she couldn’t help thinking that he was holding back for a reason. And for some strange, unexplainable reason, she trusted him, even though she knew he was lying to her. 

Maybe tonight would be a turning point for them. Perhaps being on an honest-to-God date would make a difference. Putting them in a new situation might make Oliver loosen up a little, stop being so serious and help him relax. 

Which would be great, since she was already freaking out about what dress to wear and how to style her hair. 

Glancing at her cell phone, Felicity pushed back from her desk. It was close enough to five that she could leave without attracting much attention. And with how many times she had read the same paragraph, she would be better off leaving before she agreed to something she would regret. 

Plus, this would give her time to call Caitlin and maybe even check the latest video footage of the Green Arrow before Oliver picked her up. 

XXX

Hopping on one foot as she adjusted the ankle strap on her shoe, Felicity blew a curl out of her face. “You’re sure about the hair, Caitlin?” 

“Positive,” her best friend said confidently, the sound of various medical beeps and alerts coming through the phone. “You looked amazing in that picture you texted me. Oliver won’t know what hit him.” 

“Here’s hoping,” Felicity said, lowering her foot to the ground and checking herself in the mirror. She had wanted to pull out all the stops tonight--and while her new black dress with all the cutouts certainly did that, she didn’t think she was ready to be that over-the-top. So instead, she went with a more demure red dress that still made her feel glamorous and attractive. With her hair in gentle waves around her face and her contacts in, she certainly felt like tonight was a date. 

“I know it,” Caitlin said, just as alarms began blaring in the background. “And that’s my cue to leave. Let me know how everything goes, okay?”

Felicity smiled. “Of course. Go save lives!”

Caitlin laughed and said goodbye. Felicity hung up and took a deep breath. She still had a half hour before Oliver was due to pick her up and if she didn’t find something to do, her nerves were going to take over. And she had to admit, she hadn’t been able to check the video footage of the Green Arrow for a few nights and she was curious. 

If he had done anything that would have put him on the radar for the SCPD, the back door she had created on the police department servers would have tipped her off. A lack of alerts meant things had been quiet in Starling. But that didn’t mean the Green Arrow hadn’t been out on the streets. 

Her tablet in hand, Felicity perched carefully on the edge of her sofa. She started swiping through the screens, pulling up the program she had written to analyze and compile the raw video feeds from traffic cameras across the city. As she suspected, the Green Arrow had been working in the Glades: there was footage of him dealing with a few street gangs, breaking up muggings, even thwarting an assault. 

Felicity winced when a punk got in a lucky shot with a crowbar, landing a blow across the Green Arrow’s lower back that sent him to his knees. But then, as if it was nothing, he got up and slammed his fist into the criminal’s face, knocking him out. Felicity watched as the Green Arrow breathed in and out, in and out, just like he had after taking care of all the goons who had kidnapped her. Then, with a slight gingerness to his movements, he fired a grappling arrow and disappeared from view. 

According to the date stamp, that fight had happened last night. Felicity couldn’t help hoping that he was taking it easy tonight. Or maybe taking the night off entirely. But then, crime and terror didn’t usually take the night off, either.

Something caught her eye and Felicity rewound the footage and watched it again. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to figure out what was nagging at her, but she couldn’t. There just seemed to be something about the Green Arrow, about the way he moved, that seemed . . . familiar? 

_Of course there was something familiar_ , her brain reminded her. _You saw him in action, remember?_

A soft buzz from the intercom panel made Felicity startle, fumbling to keep a hold on her tablet and not drop it. She wished she could get her father to give her the source code to JARVIS so she could update it and install it in her apartment, but so far Tony was holding back. Which sucked, because if she had her own version of JARVIS she would feel a lot less nervous right now. Now that Oliver was here--and was actually a few minutes early, she realized when she glanced at the clock on her tablet--the butterflies were flying and the familiar comfort of JARVIS would have calmed her down. 

Who was she kidding? There was nothing and no one who could make her feel less nervous right now.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity set her tablet on the coffee table and rose to her feet. The trip to the intercom felt like it took forever, but finally she was there and pressing the button. “Yes?” Her voice was a bit high-pitched but steady.

“Ms. Stark, there’s a Mr. Queen here for you?” The voice of the night doorman, kindly and gentle, came through the intercom. But even hearing Paul’s soothing voice didn’t tamp down the butterflies in her stomach. 

“Send him up, please. Thanks, Paul.” 

She turned to the mirror by her front door, doing a last-minute check of her appearance. She could use some more lipstick, so she dashed back to her bedroom, where she had left her clutch, and quickly added some more color as she walked back towards the door. And then there was a firm, solid knock against the door.

Trust Oliver to be all manly and knock instead of using the doorbell, she thought, feeling her nerves explode. Which she didn’t understand--she knew tonight was going to be fine, if nothing else. They never had any problems talking to each other and Oliver was a well-mannered, polite companion for meals. This was nothing more than a lunch that they were having several hours late. 

Felicity knew it wasn’t, though. She had expectations about tonight. Expectations and hopes. And she really wanted tonight to be perfect. 

It all started with opening the door, though. So with a deep breath, Felicity pulled open the door and then immediately tightened her grip on the doorknob. Because that was not fair.

Over the last few weeks, she had gotten to see a more dressed-down Oliver. Since he had more often than not just woken up before their lunches, he was usually in jeans and a shirt--sometimes a button-down, sometimes a Henley that showcased the ridiculous body that she couldn’t help noticing. And she had thought she liked casual Oliver better. 

But seeing him standing before her, in a gray suit, with a crisp white shirt and a tie that matched his eyes . . . Felicity was clearly wrong. Very, very wrong. Because Oliver in a suit and looking at her like that? That was the best Oliver. 

And this was kinda creepy, and definitely making her butterflies feel like they were crocodiles, and those expectations were growing even more out-of-control, but . . . God, the way he looked at her. 

“Hi,” she blurted out. “You’re early.” 

Oliver huffed out one of those little laughs, which always made her vow to someday get a complete belly laugh out of him, and ducked his head a little. “I am. Sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s okay! I mean, I was ready,” Felicity said, sucking in a breath. “Sorry, I--it’s been awhile since I’ve been on an actual date.” 

“It’s been awhile since I looked forward to a date like this,” Oliver said, giving her a bigger version of his quirked-lip smile. “So we’re both nervous.” 

Something about him acknowledging the awkwardness--and admitting to having nerves, too--made Felicity relax a little. She smiled at him and stepped out of her apartment, pulling the door shut behind her. “Nervous and wearing fancy clothes. Just like prom night, although you’re a big upgrade on my prom date. Not that I didn’t like him, it’s just we were only friends and he did me a favor,” Felicity explained as she locked her door. 

“Who did you go to prom with?” Oliver asked, his smile staying in place. 

“Franklin Richards,” Felicity said, taking two steps down the hall only to realize that Oliver hadn’t moved. 

“You went to prom with a mutant who can warp reality?” Oliver said slowly, his eyebrows raised.

Frowning, Felicity faced him. “He was--and is--my friend,” she repeated, hearing her voice grow frosty. “Is that a problem for you?” If Oliver turned out to be one of those anti-mutant bigots . . . 

“No, no,” he said quickly, stepping towards her. “I had been thinking I only had to worry about your father and his opinion of me. But apparently Tony Stark would just be the first in a long line of people coming after me if I screw up, huh?” 

She could see, underneath the humor, that he was actually nervous. And it made her smile. “Oh, Oliver,” she said, taking his arm. “You don’t have to worry about Franklin. Or my dad, for that matter. It’s my mom you should be scared of.” 

He chuckled softly, walking with her down the hall. “Something we have in common. My mom was always the scary parent, mostly because she didn’t get mad very often. But when she did--watch out.” 

“Tell me about it,” Felicity thought with a small shudder. Her first meeting with Moira Queen had gone less than well. But that happened when you unknowingly interrupted a tense moment between a woman and her rumored-to-be-estranged, still-recovering-from-being-kidnapped husband. Felicity had done her best to smooth things over, and Mrs. Queen had been nothing but gracious in their later encounters. But Felicity couldn’t help shaking the feeling that Oliver’s mother was always calculating and planning. Nothing was off-the-cuff with her. 

Perhaps that was where Oliver got that that quality from: that sense of still waters running deep. Because no phrase better described Moira Queen--or her son--than that one. 

“She likes you,” Oliver reassured her as they stepped into the elevator. “She thinks you’re refreshing. Just like everyone else in Starling.” 

And there were those expectations and hopes again. Because Oliver and his mother had talked about her?

“Somehow, I doubt Tommy feels that way,” Felicity said, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Tommy and Laurel talk about you all the time,” Oliver said, shooting her a look. “You fit in better with them than I do. Are you trying to steal my friends?” 

Felicity’s fingers spasmed a little against Oliver’s arm, and wow, his forearm was really firm. But she was surprised. There wasn’t any anger or annoyance in Oliver’s words or tone. No, he sounded like he was . . . impressed. And pleased.

“Before I met you, they were always mentioning you,” Felicity said, trying to keep her voice light and breezy. “Honestly, if I didn’t know that Tommy is very opposed to following any kind of plan, I’d wonder if they had been attempting to do a little matchmaking.” 

His eyes, so blue and so amazing, connected with hers. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, and then Oliver leaned in towards her a little. “It’s too bad they didn’t try. We could have started this a lot sooner.” 

If it hadn’t been for the ding of the elevator doors opening, interrupting the moment and reminding them both that they were in public, Felicity would have kissed him. Would have gone up on her toes and slid her arm around his neck, pulling him down towards her and finding out if all the stories about him were true. Although she was hoping they weren’t. Because she thought the Oliver Queen in the papers wasn’t the real Oliver, and that was who she wanted: the real Oliver. That was who she wanted to kiss. 

And she thought that Oliver wanted to kiss her, too. 

XXX

With a smile that was charming, happy, and borderline illegal, Oliver leaned towards her. “I know you want dessert.” 

It took every ounce of willpower she had, not to mention years of etiquette lessons and advice from Pepper, to not say the words that immediately sprang to mind.

_Yes: you._

Using one of those tricks her mother had taught her, Felicity lifted her water glass and took a sip, looking at Oliver over the rim. The candlelight made him even more attractive, which was really, really unfair. But then, converting oxygen into carbon dioxide made Oliver more attractive. 

Tonight had been amazing. Her nerves had eased in the face of the snap-crackle chemistry between them. She had felt it before, from their very first meeting, but it had never been this strong, this sustained. The whole evening had been flirtatious glances and suggestive banter. She had let slip a few mildly racy things and Oliver had been caught looking at her for just a little too long a few too many times. 

And then there was the touching. She had held his arm on the way to his car and he had lightly touched her knee or arm when he wasn’t shifting gears while driving to the restaurant. And then, as they walked in, his hand had been firm and warm and just a bit too low on her back for two people who were only friends. 

Throughout dinner, there had been hand brushes and foot bumps. Combined with the moment in the elevator, all the physical contact had Felicity ready for something to happen. Especially with Oliver being so bright. There was a lightness about him tonight that she hadn’t seen before. It was like after wearing a heavy winter coat, he had shrugged it off because today was the first day of spring. 

“I would love dessert,” she said, setting her glass down lightly. “But not right away. Maybe we could take a bit of a walk and then have some ice cream?” 

“Since they don’t have mint chocolate chip here?” Oliver asked, tilting his head to the side before taking the check from the waiter. 

It always gave her a rush when Oliver plucked some fact about her out of thin air, something she hadn’t told him. It meant he had read up on her. And yeah, it could be kinda creepy when some people did it, but it never felt like that with Oliver. 

“You know me so well,” Felicity said, lifting her napkin from her lap and depositing it on the table. 

“I’m starting to,” Oliver said, giving her a quick yet very heated look before he rose from his chair. 

Felicity took advantage of him moving around the table to help her from her chair to take a deep breath. Which backfired on her, because she got a noseful of his cologne and God, he smelled good.

Once again, his hand went to her back as they walked out of the restaurant. Oliver applied gentle pressure, directing her where to go, and soon they were strolling down a pedestrian avenue, lined with trees decorated with strings of lights. It was quietly busy, with other people out enjoying the pleasant evening and getting a meal at any of the restaurants that dotted the area. 

“I didn’t know a place like this existed in Starling,” Felicity said, looking around and trying not to fidget with her hands. 

“It’s been here twenty years,” Oliver told her, his hand moving a little against her back before he dropped it to his side. Which was probably for the best, she told herself. “It’s fought to stay like this, despite being so close to the Glades.” 

Their hands kept brushing against each other, sending little sparks through her. The next time his hand was close to hers, Felicity wrapped three of her fingers around his. She could see him pause for a moment, almost stopping mid-stride, before he kept going. And he turned his hand to lace his fingers through hers. 

“People act like the Glades is some urban ruin, but it doesn’t seem that bad to me,” she said quietly, trying to keep the conversation going even as she cataloged everything she could about Oliver’s hand. It was big and warm against hers, his fingers long and calloused. She hadn’t expected the rough skin; she would have thought by now that his skin had recovered from the years on the island. Not that she was complaining at all. 

“It is and it isn’t,” Oliver said, his voice a bit deeper than before. “It’s trying to recover, but it needs more help than it’s getting.” 

That wasn’t the attitude of most of Starling City’s elite, Felicity knew. At most parties or benefits, the prevailing opinion seemed to be that the Glades was little better than a ghetto and was only allowed to keep existing in order to keep ‘those people’ contained within. 

But then, Oliver would know better than most of the wealthy and powerful what you had to do when you had limited resources. Or none at all. 

She looked at him, seeing his expression lose some of its earlier brightness. When she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes locked on hers and he immediately relaxed a little. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so serious there,” he said. 

“You’re very serious,” she agreed, smiling at him. “I should warn you, I’ve made it one of my goals to make you laugh. Really laugh.” 

“Oh, have you?” he said, eyeing her speculatively. “How? With a great gross of packing peanuts?” 

“Pfft, no. Not now that you know about that,” Felicity scoffed. He grinned at her and Felicity felt her smile widening. “No, it’s gotta be something new. Something you’d never expect.” 

And, oh, there was his smile. It was different from his cocky grin or mildly-amused lip quirks. No, this was the smile she got the first time they met, the smile that drew every photographer’s lens. Because it was an amazing smile and she loved seeing it and she wanted to see it a lot more. 

Felicity knew she probably looked like a cartoon character right now, with hearts and tweeting songbirds appearing over her head. But she couldn’t help it. She had never felt like this before and she knew that she was no longer on the verge of falling for Oliver. 

The fall was happening. Right now. And not just for her, if she believed what his eyes were saying to her. 

“Felicity,” he said, taking a step closer to her, their hands still tangled together. 

Lifting her head, not bothering with words because she didn’t want to use her breath for talking, Felicity went up on her toes and gently pressed her mouth against Oliver’s. 

There was no way kissing him would have been sedate or polite, Felicity knew. There was too much electricity between them for sedate. But the moment their lips came into contact, she felt all the lights around them dimmed, like in a Frankenstein movie when the monster was being created. 

Because she felt like she was coming to life. 

His lips moved slowly against hers, applying the perfect amount of pressure. His free hand cupped the back of her head, holding her in place as they kept kissing, as they learned each other. Felicity’s eyes closed and she savored the taste of him, the feel of him. His mouth was warm and tasted slightly spicy and very, very male. 

She felt her body growing flushed and fevered, her legs trembling a little the longer she was up on her toes. Her hand settled on his back, halfway between his hip and his spine, and when his lips parted hers and his tongue gently brushed against her, she couldn’t help pressing her hand into his firm muscles. 

Oliver shuddered and winced, pulling his mouth from hers and sucking in a breath. “Ow,” he whispered, cutting through her daze. 

Blinking, Felicity looked up at him, seeing a flash of pain in his eyes. “Oliver?” she asked, dropping down off her toes and pulling her hand away from his back. But she let it hover in the air, feeling confused when he tugged his hand free from hers. 

“Sorry--I had a spill on my motorcycle last night,” he said, taking a step back from her. He shifted on his feet as he reached behind himself, his hands massaging his lower back. “I’m more sore than I realized.” 

“Oh my God, Oliver!” she said, running her eyes over him and looking for any other injuries. “Why didn’t you say anything? Oh, I’m so sorry! You could have cancelled if you were hurting or we could have skipped the walk--” 

His hand, warm and firm on her shoulder, stopped her. He gave her a gentle smile. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” 

“It’s not nothing,” she said, feeling a flicker of worry. And not just because he was hurting, she realized uncomfortably. Because what if he _wasn’t_ hurt and this was his way of letting her down easily? 

He smiled at her, his fingers rubbing a little against her shoulder, the callouses making little tendrils of heat go down her arm. “You’re pretty when you worry.” 

Felicity gaped at him, and then he leaned in to brush a soft kiss over her lips. “I’m fine,” he repeated, staying close to her. “But . . . I do think we have to take a rain check on the ice cream.” 

It took a moment for her brain to finish rebooting, and then Felicity nodded quickly. “Of course. Whatever you need.” 

His eyes locked with hers and she nearly shivered at the heat in his gaze. But he didn’t say anything, just drew his fingers down her arm and once again took her hand in his. 

XXX

Later on, Felicity would wonder why it took her so long to figure it out. Some genius she was if she hadn’t immediately realized that Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow. 

Because there was the timing, with the Green Arrow appeared almost immediately after Oliver returned to Starling City. The evidence, like the callouses on his hands and the injuries that were covered up as motorcycle spills or drunken accidents. And then there was Oliver’s behavior: how differently he acted in private versus in public; how he came up with lame excuses and deflected attention from himself; even the way he held himself, his body always tensed and at the ready, his eyes observant and watchful. 

But none of those things tipped Felicity off. No, it was when he was driving her back to her apartment and a pickup truck cut them off. Oliver slammed on the brakes and loudly let out what sounded like a curse word from the anger in his voice. But she didn’t know what he said, because it sounded like it was in . . . Russian? 

“What was that?” she asked, blinking at him. “What you just said?” 

“Nothing,” he said distractedly, getting the car back into gear. 

“Was that Russian?” Felicity asked, feeling the strangest compulsion to not let this go. “When did you learn Russian?” 

Oliver glanced at her, his eyes narrowed. “Our housekeeper. She taught me. When I was a kid.” 

It was a perfectly reasonable explanation. But it didn’t ring true. Why would Ollie Queen have bothered to learn Russian? The papers and Oliver himself had been in complete agreement. Before the island, he had been a feckless playboy who had flunked out of four colleges. 

The rest of the drive to her apartment was silent, because Oliver didn’t say anything and Felicity was lost in thought. Turning over this new, discordant clue to the man she had fallen for. She had said to him, the first time they had lunch, that he was a mystery. A mystery that, against her natural instincts, she had not tried to solve. But suddenly, she couldn’t stop thinking about Oliver. About his five years on the island, about how that had changed him, about what a man like that might do when he returned home. 

Wouldn’t he think about taking his second chance at life and making a difference? 

And just like that, she knew that she had been right all along about Oliver. Right not to believe him when he put on that carefree dumb guy act. Because . . . that wasn’t who he was at all.

He was the Green Arrow. 

Did that mean she was dating the Green Arrow now? Wait, he had _saved_ her from that kidnapping attempt and then had approached her at that party--why had he done that? Had he liked her even then?

Oh, God. Oliver was a killer. 

Felicity closed her eyes. She didn’t want to believe it. Because . . . she felt like she had been getting to know him. She knew how much he loved his sister, she knew how important his friends were to him, she knew he cared about Starling City. 

But she didn’t really know him at all, if she didn’t know that he had killed people. That he went out every night in green leather and a hood to fight battles he shouldn’t be fighting, all alone and without any backup or support.

It was amazing he had lasted as long as he had. But how long would he be able to keep doing this? Eventually he would be unmasked--he had already fallen under suspicion once. And the next time, he wouldn’t be able to wiggle his way free. And then he would be tried and convicted of vigilantism and murder and he--

“Felicity?” 

“Gah!” she said in surprise, her eyes flying open and her hands falling into some strange approximation of a defensive stance, a holdover of all those lessons with Natasha and Maria. 

Oliver stared at her, a host of emotions flashing through his eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

Looking around, she saw that they were parked in front of her apartment building. She had been so distracted she hadn’t even realized she was home. 

A whisper in the back of her mind chided her for losing track of her surroundings. For trusting him. But she batted it down and took a deep breath. 

“Oliver . . .” she said, her voice cracking a little. She swallowed and tried again. “Oliver. Were you ever going to tell me?” 

His head tilted to the side and he pasted on a smile. But it was fake. She could tell. She could see through him now, could see the act he was putting on. “Tell you what? That I had a really good time tonight? Because I did, and--” 

“Not that,” she interrupted.

As quickly as he tried to play the lovestruck fool, Oliver dropped the act, his face growing serious. “Felicity, whatever’s bothering you, you can tell me--” 

“Can I?” she asked half-rhetorically. “Because this? What I just figured out? I don’t know, Oliver.” 

“What you just figured out? Felicity, what are you talking about? I don’t understand--”

“You’re the Green Arrow!” she said, the words tumbling from her lips. 

He rocked back at her words, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open slightly. He looked completely shocked . . . and scared. 

And his reaction confirmed what she already knew. 

Felicity turned her head to look out through the windshield. “Thank you for not continuing to lie to me.” 

A heavy, dark silence fell between them, full of all the things that had been said and not said. 

“How did you--” His voice caught and he coughed, then spoke again. “How did you figure it out?” 

“I know something about egotistical billionaire heroes,” she said slowly. “And then there was everything else. The way you act versus the way you are. The callouses on your hands. The Green Arrow appearing in Starling City right after you returned. The bruise on your back, when I know the Green Arrow got clobbered there with a crowbar just last night.” 

“How did you know about last night?” 

Something about his voice, the careful questions he was asking her, made her temper flare. She whipped her head around to face him. “Is that really what you want to ask me, Oliver? Or should I call you the Green Arrow? How much of this was you and how much of this was him, the guy in the hood?” 

His jaw clenched. “If you’re asking if I spent time with you because I had some big plan, to use you in my work . . . no. Believe me, the last thing I should have done is get close to you. But I--” He bit off whatever he was going to say and looked down. 

Something about his tone made her heart tighten in her chest. There was so much bitterness and self-loathing there . . . like he thought he wasn’t worthy of anything or anyone. Like he wasn’t worthy of her. 

But it was too dangerous to talk about that. Felicity shifted a little in her seat and spoke softly. “I don’t understand. You--you could do so much good. You don’t have to go it alone.” 

“I’m not alone,” Oliver spoke quietly. “I’ve got a partner. Not in the field, though.” 

“But you don’t work with the police or any other agency. I’ve checked,” Felicity said. “What you’re doing--being a vigilante, working in the dark, _killing_ people--Oliver, this isn’t the way.”

“There isn’t another way, Felicity,” he said, his voice firm and stubborn and resigned. 

When she looked at Oliver, she could see that he really believed that. Whatever had happened to him on that island, that taught him how to use a bow, how to fight, how to survive . . . it had also turned him into a man who had no hope and no dreams. 

And it hurt to look at him and see that, when she had already dreamed so many dreams for them. 

Holding back the tears, Felicity reached for the door handle, but paused. “I think you’re wrong,” she said quietly, looking at him. Noticing how he wouldn’t--or couldn’t--meet her eyes. “I think there is another way. I wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t. I wouldn’t exist if my father thought it was the only way.” 

She bit her lip. “If you want to talk about this, I’ll listen. I’ll tell you what I think. I’m willing to hear you out. But you’ve got to be willing to consider that it doesn’t have to be like this. And until you’re ready, I--I can’t do this.” 

“Felicity,” he said softly. There was so much longing and sadness there that she could feel her heart breaking. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” she said, fumbling for the handle to open the door. “And when you’re ready to find that other way, you know where I’ll be.” 

As she got out of the car, she stumbled a little and she knew Oliver had made a move to get out of the car, to help her, but he had stopped. Because he wasn’t ready and they both knew it. 

Regaining her balance, Felicity squared her shoulders and started walking towards the doors into her apartment building. She could feel his eyes on her, knew he was watching her walk away. And part of her wondered if this was the wrong decision. If this would tip him over the edge, back to killing at the rate he had been practicing before. 

But she had to hope that inside Oliver, there was a hero. She believed there was. But he needed to find that hero for himself. It wasn’t enough for her to believe in him. 

He needed to believe he was a hero. And once he knew that, she could tell him that she thought he was a hero. And she could tell him that she was so close to loving him. 

End, Chapter 4


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so thrilled by the reaction to this fic. It’s fantastic to get so many positive comments and it’s totally fuelling my work. I’m actually several chapters ahead at this point, so there shouldn’t be any delay in the weekly postings. I hope y’all continue to enjoy the fic! Many thanks to mersayseh for betaing and idea-bouncing. 
> 
> This chapter has a scene in it that might be among my top 5 favorite things I’ve ever written, so I’m very happy to share it with you!

“Felicity Maria Stark, why didn’t you tell us you were seeing Oliver Queen? We had to find out from the _LA Times_.” 

Great. What a way to start her morning. 

Lifting her hand, Felicity rubbed her forehead. “Hi, Mom.” 

“Don’t dodge the question, princess.”

Even better. Her dad was on the call, too. “Hi, Dad,” she said. “Was the _Times_ at least complimentary?” 

“Rhapsodic,” Pepper said dryly. “Of course, it was in the business section, so I think they were more excited by the prospect of SI and Queen Consolidated merging than about you and Oliver doing the same, but--”

“There is no me and Oliver,” Felicity interrupted. 

“Pictures don’t lie, unlike you right now,” her father said. “There are photos of you two-- _kissing_.” Her father sounded incredibly disgruntled. Clearly, her father’s discovery that his only daughter did, in fact, like boys was the real issue here, Felicity thought darkly. 

This wasn’t the way she wanted to start the first day after she figured out Oliver’s secret identity. If she had her way, she would still be at home, buried under her comforter with a pint of mint chocolate chip. Ice cream was dairy--that made it a breakfast food in her book. 

But she had gotten a call that there had been another attempt at hacking SI’s servers during the overnight hours, and Felicity knew she needed to get to the office. 

Sadly, her venti skinny vanilla latte was not powerful enough to deal with low-level heartbreak, a hacker, and her parents. She took another sip, just to be sure, only to realize that no, still not enough. 

“Mom, Dad, those pictures are from right after dinner. There’s no pictures of what happened later. At least, I’m pretty sure there aren’t.” 

There was a long silence, before Tony said, “Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means. Because that implies you’re taking after me a lot more than I’m comfortable with.”

Felicity frowned, ran her words through her mind, and then grimaced. Great--now her parents thought there were pictures of her having sex with Oliver. “No, no, I didn’t mean like that. We--we had a disagreement, so I don’t know if I’ll be seeing him again.” 

“Really?” Pepper asked, sounding skeptical. “Because you looked good together. Happy. In a way I haven’t seen you before now, Felicity.” 

Damn it. She felt her breath come short at her mother’s words. Because it was her mom. Her mom knew her. So if Pepper thought Felicity looked happy with Oliver . . . everyone thought that. Including Oliver. 

Turning towards her computer, Felicity slowly opened the _LA Times_ website. “It doesn’t matter, Mom. I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again.” 

There was another silence while her parents were probably doing that silent communication thing. It was long enough that Felicity was able to pull up the photos and see, in full color on her high-definition monitor, just how happy she looked with Oliver. 

And how happy he looked, too.

But she couldn’t let that little fact hide the big picture: Oliver thought his only option was to live in the shadows, to be some force for dark justice--no, not justice. Vengeance. And that wasn’t how a hero worked. 

“We didn’t just call about your love life,” Pepper said finally. “There was another computer attack on SI. This time, they attempted to get in through the main office. Felicity, this is going past a problem into a crisis. Rumors are starting to swirl and the stock prices are dropping faster than the Board of Directors--or myself, for that matter--are comfortable with.” 

Frowning, Felicity made herself close her laptop, hiding the photos of her and Oliver. “It’s under control. I’m already at the office, getting ready to go over the forensics of this morning’s attack.” 

“This morning? I was talking about the attempt three days ago. Felicity,” Pepper said, sounding worried. 

“Wait, they tried to get in through the LA office?” Felicity asked. “I’m confused.” 

“So am I,” Pepper said. “Tony, stop fiddling with that engine and listen.” 

Her father snorted. “I am listening. You should come home, Felicity.” 

“I’m not coming back to LA,” Felicity snapped. “And so far, you’ve told me nothing that connects the attack three days ago with this most recent attack on my division. If you get that info, forward it to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to consult with the IT department to get to the bottom of what’s happening here in Starling.” 

“Felicity--” “Princess--” her parents said in unison, but Felicity hung up her cell phone and dropped it on her desk. Using her arms to shove herself back, she cursed as her spinny chair went too far from the force of her exertion, banging into the credenza behind her. 

“Shit!” she said softly, getting up and stomping out of her office. 

Losing her temper like that, being dismissive of her parents . . . it wasn’t like her. And it wasn’t fair towards her parents, let alone how a vice-president should act towards the CEO and president of Stark Industries. Just because her love life was a mess didn’t mean she could become a wreck. Even though she felt sad and upset, she couldn’t--and wouldn’t--let herself fall apart. 

Once she figured out this latest hacking attempt, she would call her parents and apologize. And then she would go home to her apartment and work from there, to give herself some breathing room. There had already been a few too many signs that the _LA Times_ wasn’t the only newspaper carrying the paparazzi shots of her and Oliver. And Felicity couldn’t deal with everyone smiling at her, giving her cheerful hellos, and expecting the same reaction in return. 

As was her routine, Felicity went through the lobby of the SI offices to get to the IT department, since it was the most direct route from her office. Just like always, there were people sitting on the couches and chairs, filling out job applications or waiting to be interviewed. Forcing herself to smile and nod as she walked past people, she drew up short when a man stepped into her path. 

“Excuse me,” she said, trying to step around him. 

The man, stocky and tall, shook his head. “Sorry, girlie. My boss sent me with a message.” 

Felicity took a step back, feeling a nameless yet forbidding sense of unease. “Excuse me?” she repeated, this time in confusion. 

His hand shot out, wrapping around one of her wrists. “The next time you get asked for something, you’re gonna want to give it over. Otherwise, you won’t get asked too nicely the second time.” 

“Let go of me,” Felicity said, doing her best to sound firm even if on the inside she was quaking. 

“I’ve said my piece,” he said, letting go. And before Felicity could do anything--call for security, find out who the hell he was--the man disappeared.

Her knees felt like jelly and Felicity realized she had sunk down on one of the chairs in the waiting area, breathing hard and fast like she did on the elliptical. 

“Ms. Stark? Ms. Stark? Felicity?” 

“What?” she said, looking around and seeing one of the receptionists standing in front of her. 

“Are you all right? Is something wrong?” The receptionist--Meredith, her name was Meredith--looked worried. 

Swallowing, Felicity gathered her wits. “I need you to call the security office and have them get the camera footage for the lobby and outside the building. And then I need you to call the police, Meredith. I was just threatened.” 

Meredith’s eyes went wide, but she nodded jerkily. “Yes, Ms. Stark. Right away.” 

The receptionist skittered away and Felicity looked down, noticing her hand slowly rubbing the wrist that the man had grabbed. Like she was trying to exorcise the feel of his fingers against her skin. 

It looked like her long day had just gotten longer. And when she called her parents back, she was going to have to apologize for more than just snapping at them. She would have to apologize for not taking her own safety seriously after she was kidnapped. 

And it looked like she was going to have to find a bodyguard. Maybe Oliver could ask his bodyguard--

She closed her eyes. She couldn’t call Oliver. And she hadn’t realized that he was the first person she thought of calling when something happened, for good or for bad. 

Strong. She had to be strong. She couldn’t be with him when he killed people, when he worked outside the law, when he--

When he was no different from her father, or the woman who had trained her how to defend herself, or from most of the people she had known her entire life. 

No, it was different. Oliver--no, the Green Arrow--was different from the Avengers and the X-Men and the Fantastic Four. She had to remember that. She couldn’t let herself forget that in the face of her desire to find out if Oliver gave good hugs. 

XXX

Dropping her head into her hands, Felicity took a few deep breaths. Who knew that interviewing a bodyguard would be so stressful? Beyond the obvious, like putting her life into the hands of someone she had never met and didn’t know and wasn’t sure how to trust a stranger like that. 

But she had to do this. It had been a week since she had been threatened, and . . . and she was having trouble coping. There had been a few nightmares, a few times she had startled when someone got too close to her, a few days when she had barely eaten anything--or had done nothing but eat ice cream and drink coffee. 

In short, Felicity knew she was a mess. And she didn’t think a bodyguard would really make a difference, but her parents were insisting and the SCPD had strongly encouraged her to ‘enhance her personal security’. 

At least being scared was helping keep her mind off Oliver, she thought sadly. Her alerts on the SCPD servers and the traffic camera system had gone silent, so either the Green Arrow was not in action this week or he had figured out how to cover his tracks. She didn’t know which option she preferred: the idea that he was staying home but letting crime go unchecked, or that he was even better at hiding than she had realized. 

There was one more candidate waiting to be interviewed. The sooner she started the interview, the sooner it would be over. 

Picking up her phone, Felicity told Gerry to send in the last one. She rose to her feet, waiting for another cookie-cutter bodyguard type to walk in the door. The man who stepped into her office certainly looked the part: tall, broad-shouldered, with arms that bore more than a passing resemblance to tree trunks. He was dark-skinned and wore a black suit that seemed designed to make him blend in anywhere. But there was something in his eyes, in his stance, that made Felicity tilt her head. A sense of humor? A spark of intelligence that she hadn’t seen in anyone else so far today? 

“Ms. Stark? John Diggle,” he said, reaching out a hand the size of a baseball mitt. 

Felicity took his hand and shook it slowly. “You seem very familiar, Mr. Diggle.” 

“You might have seen me with Oliver Queen,” Mr. Diggle said, his eyes holding hers for a long moment. 

Her heart gave a weird little throb and Felicity quickly dropped his hand. She took a breath and gestured to the chairs in front of her desk with a nod of her head. “Please, have a seat, Mr. Diggle. I didn’t realize you and . . . Mr. Queen had parted ways.” 

“We haven’t,” Mr. Diggle said, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sat down. “My organization has someone they want you to interview, but I wanted to talk to you in a way that wouldn’t attract attention. Especially from Oliver. So let me just say that you can’t go wrong with Rob Scott, my company’s candidate. He’s got the skills--five years as a SWAT officer--and he’s a go-getter. I’d recommend him.” 

“Okay,” Felicity said slowly, chewing a little on her lower lip. “So you’d recommend him, but you took his interview slot. So you could talk to me.” 

“Yep.” 

When he didn’t elaborate, Felicity lifted an eyebrow. “That was an invitation to explain yourself, Mr. Diggle.” 

He let out a soft chuckle. “Now I’m starting to see what he likes about you.” 

Felicity dropped her eyes. She knew who he was talking about but she didn’t want to think about what it meant . . . because why was Oliver’s bodyguard here? Wanting to talk to her? 

“There’s something I told Oliver once that you might understand.” 

At Mr. Diggle’s words, she slowly lifted her eyes and met his. “Yes?” she asked, her hands unconsciously picking up one of her red pens and fidgeting with it. 

He nodded slowly. “Home is a battlefield. When you’re with the people that know you best, they want you to be who they expect. A person that you might not be anymore.” 

“If you’re saying that’s something Oliver and I have in common, I don’t know that I agree with you, Mr. Diggle,” Felicity said, lifting her chin. Refusing to give any sign of how his words had struck a chord with her. Because after all . . . she had left LA to get away from her parents, from all the people that had known her since she was born. They all thought they knew her--but how was that possible when she didn’t even know herself? 

She had come to Starling City to discover who she was. To see who Felicity was beyond the daughter of Pepper Potts and Tony Stark, the honorary niece of Steve Rogers, one of the acknowledged leaders of the Avenger offspring--even if she had no interest in being a superhero. She had gotten so caught up in the problems of running a division, trying to become part of Starling City, and all the other day-to-day issues, she had lost sight of that goal. 

Or maybe she hadn’t. Maybe she was figuring out who she was by seeing how she handled challenges. Felicity didn’t know. 

“You don’t have to agree with me, Ms. Stark. I just thought you might like some insight into Oliver’s head. It’s a place not many people are willing to go, but you certainly seemed interested enough, until a week ago.” 

Before she could do more than frown and open her mouth to snap out a reply, Mr. Diggle held up a hand. “Excuse me, that was blunter than I meant it to be. I came here because Oliver’s torn up over what happened with you, but he’s not ready yet to admit that you’re right. That there’s another way.” 

Leaning back in her chair, Felicity took a moment to go over what he had just said. “You know. You’re his partner.” 

“That’s right,” Mr. Diggle said with a nod. 

“How can you justify it?” Felicity asked, dropping her pen so she could move her hands to the arms of her chair, out of his line of sight. She needed some way to express her nervousness but she didn’t want him to know she was fidgeting. “You see my point, I can tell--why didn’t you do anything to stop him or change his mind? How can you let him go out and kill people?” 

Mr. Diggle had been sending measuring looks her way during this whole conversation. This one, though, was even more penetrating. “When I found out, I couldn’t justify it at first. But then I realized he needed someone to show him that there were other possibilities. He needed someone to remind him that he has a soul--a soul that deep down was good; better than he thought it was. I couldn’t turn my back on him.” He paused. “He needs help figuring out there was another way. Just like you want him to learn. I have different methods than you do, that’s all.” 

Felicity wanted to be defiant, alight with the fire of righteousness. But when she spoke, she only sounded regretful. “You could be right, about Oliver’s soul. I believe you are, I mean. But your methods are probably working better than mine.” 

“I wouldn’t say that,” Mr. Diggle said, a smile appearing on his face and changing him from stern task master to amused older brother in a flash. “A beautiful woman’s opinion matters an awful lot to most men. And Oliver’s no different. He hasn’t done anything but brood for the last week. Brood and worry about you. If I worked for him and not Mrs. Queen, I’m sure Oliver would have told me to interview with you so he would know you’d be safe.”

The idea that Oliver was worrying that much about her shouldn’t be what her mind focused on, but it did until Felicity regained control. 

“So, what, you’re here to put in a good word for him?” Felicity asked, her natural skepticism out in full force. 

He rose to his feet, his hands sliding into the pockets of his trousers. “In a way, yes. Don’t write him off too quickly, Ms. Stark. In the time that he was seeing you, he had changed. Lightened up. Gotten a new control over all the parts of his life. He was doing it for you, but the changes were ones he already wanted to make. They’ve stuck. And that’s with him thinking it’s over between you two.” He paused. “Might want to consider how Oliver will be afterwards.” 

“Afterwards?” she said, looking up at him and clutching the arms of her chair. 

“When he comes to you and says he knows another way,” Mr. Diggle said, giving her another one of those smiles. “He will, eventually. And when he does, he’ll come running to you.” 

_That punk is in love with that guy’s daughter or he has a newfound respect for life_ , Felicity thought randomly. A quote from _Grosse Pointe Blank_ didn’t seem that relevant at the present time, so Felicity gave her head a little shake to get rid of it, like swiping away a notification on your cell phone. 

“It speaks well of Oliver that he has someone like you in his corner,” Felicity said, slowly standing up. Feeling a small flicker of surprise at realizing she was being honest. Because there was nothing about John Diggle that indicated he was anything other than a man of the highest moral fiber--he appeared ethical, loyal, and observant. 

She almost wished that he could be her bodyguard. But she was pretty sure Oliver needed him more. And she was glad that Oliver had someone like John Diggle.

XXX

Thanks to years of dealing with photographers and the press, Felicity knew exactly how to get past a crowd of paparazzi. But that didn’t mean she enjoyed it. Especially when she was tired and hungry and more than ready to curl up on her couch with her Chinese food and wine and ice cream. Because she had a phone call planned with Caitlin, and after two weeks of soul-searching she needed to talk to someone. Needed to get a second opinion. So who better to go to than your best friend the doctor? 

“Miss Stark! What did Ollie do?” 

“Is Oliver Queen a bad kisser, Felicity?”

“Look over here, Felicity, c’mon, give us a smile!” 

Putting on a remote, cool smile--one that she copied from her mother--Felicity moved towards the doors of her apartment building. Rob Scott, her new bodyguard, would be starting tomorrow, so this would probably be the last time she would have to face the gauntlet alone. And after all, her date with Oliver had been nearly two weeks ago--the paparazzi were bound to lose interest soon. 

“Felicity, any truth that you’re in a star-crossed relationship with Franklin Richards and Oliver found out?” 

“What does Iron Man think about his daughter dating Ollie Queen?”

“Miss Stark! Was Oliver Queen not good enough for you?” 

Felicity stopped so quickly that she could feel the indrawn breath of whoever was behind her, trying with all their might to avoid running into her back. She whirled around, the end of her ponytail actually smacking against her jaw, as she looked at the vultures.

“Who asked that last question?” she said, her voice firm and cold. 

A thin, weedy-looking young man with glasses slowly raised his hand. “Ben Reilly, _Starling City Examiner_ , Miss Stark.” 

“And you want to know if Oliver Queen isn’t good enough for me?” she said, repeating the question slowly. Feeling her blood burn. Because it was such a ridiculous, impertinent, _rude_ question.

“Honestly, I want to know anything about your relationship with Mr. Queen,” Reilly said, pushing his glasses up.

“Then let me give you a scoop,” Felicity said with a sweet smile. “Oliver Queen has shown so many admirable qualities: courage, compassion, loyalty. All since he returned to Starling City, after five years of darkness and horror--five years that would break most people. So it’s funny you think he’s not good enough for me, when any woman would be lucky to have his time and attention. But I guess some people’s standards are too high for anyone to live up to them.” She paused, letting her words hang in the air, her eyes locked on the rapidly-blushing face of Ben Reilly. 

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said coolly, before turning on her heel and walking into her building, the flashbulbs going off like strobe lights. 

It wasn’t until she was in the elevator that Felicity dropped her head and groaned. The last thing you did was feed the sharks, and she had just done that--majorly. But something about the reporter’s question had hit her the wrong way. Pressed up against a sore spot she didn’t know she had. Because . . . she thought Oliver could be a hero. The very fact that he was so self-sacrificing, so focused on saving Starling, spoke to that quality inside him. It wasn’t something that everyone had; some of the bravest people she knew had needed a lot more time than Oliver to make that kind of decision. To realize that was the choice they faced and were willing to sacrifice themselves. So to have anyone think that Oliver wasn’t good enough for her--it bothered her. 

By the time she had changed into pajamas and gotten a glass of wine poured, her phone was ringing. Scooping it up, Felicity answered it quickly. “Hi, Caitlin.” 

“Hey! You sound good.” 

“You say that like you’re surprised,” Felicity said, tucking her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she carried her wineglass and the bag of Chinese food over to the couch. 

“Honestly, I kinda am, but then, it’s been, what, two weeks?” A bunch of quiet noises on the other end of the phone told Felicity that Caitlin was probably already eating her sushi. 

_Twelve days, but who was counting?_ Felicity set down her food and took a sip--okay, a swallow--of her wine. “About that long, yeah.”

“Hmmm,” Caitlin said. “But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you’re really upset about Oliver and you’re trying to hide it from your best friend.” 

Sighing softly, Felicity curled up in one corner of the couch, cradling her wine glass to her chest. “I got ambushed by the paparazzi outside my building just now, and someone asked me a question that I responded to before I even realized I was doing it.” 

“That’s not like you, Felicity,” Caitlin said. 

“I know. But . . . but he asked me if Oliver wasn’t good enough for me.” Felicity let out a sad laugh and took another swallow from her wine glass. “I don’t agree with his methods at all, but what he’s trying to do? I admire him so much.” 

Oliver’s identity as the Green Arrow wasn’t Felicity’s secret to tell, but she had needed to say something to Caitlin to explain the spectacularly awful end of her date with Oliver. So Felicity had told Caitlin that Oliver was trying to protect Starling City, but without anyone knowing and in a way that Felicity couldn’t approve of. All accurate enough, but with the exact details held back. It wasn’t the ideal way to do this but it had to do. 

“So you defended him?” 

“I couldn’t help it,” Felicity said softly. “Because he’s doing all this and refusing to let anyone thank him, and--and he deserves to be thanked. To be recognized for what he’s doing. To be seen for who he truly is.” 

“We all deserve that but we never get it as much as we should, I think,” Caitlin said, her voice gentle. “Felicity, I’m worried about you. Are you sure you should stay away from Oliver?” 

Given the twelve days she had experienced, the wine was already hitting her. Felicity resolutely put down her glass, so she could focus on this conversation, and reached for her dinner. “He knows where I am, he knows how I feel. I can’t force him to change, Caitlin.” 

“But you can give him the encouragement and support he needs. I mean, did you even tell him what you just told me? About why you want him to change?” Caitlin had that firm, take-no-prisoners tone in her voice that always rubbed Felicity the wrong way. 

“I can’t be some magic feather for him--his reason for being good,” Felicity protested. “He has to want that on his own.” 

“Felicity, are you even _listening_ to yourself? What reason are you giving him to change, to be better, if you lay down some ultimatum and leave him to figure this out all on his own?” 

Her best friend was getting loud now--it was nothing compared to Felicity’s Loud Voice, but it still made her pause and really listen to what Caitlin was saying. 

“You’re clearly crazy about him. From how you’ve talked about him--how you’re still talking about him--and from the photos I saw, anyone could see that you really like Oliver,” Caitlin continued. “I’d hate for you to let your fear get in the way of something good, all the while pretending it’s about taking a stand.” She paused and spoke softly. “Because this isn’t about ethics or morality. It’s about being scared.” 

Gripping her phone tightly, Felicity looked down. As she did so, water spots appeared on her leggings and she lifted her hand, discovering that tears were rolling down her cheeks. “Oh,” she said softly, feeling like she had been picked up and shaken like a snow globe. And now all her pieces were flying around inside her, all pretty yet overwhelming, too. 

“Felicity?” Caitlin sounded worried. 

“I--I’m here,” she sniffed, wiping her hand over her face. “For a genius, I’m really dumb.” 

Caitlin laughed sympathetically. “Well, Oliver is really handsome. I’ve been struck dumb by the pretty before. Like around the new head of laboratory sciences.” 

“Oh, tell me more. Take my mind off my own problems,” Felicity said, trying to put on a brave face even as the tears kept leaking from her eyes. Because although she wanted nothing more than to figure out what she was going to do about Oliver, she wanted to give Caitlin the support that her best friend had given her.

Besides, what she needed to do next wasn’t something she could do while she was on the phone.

XXX

Why oh why had she let herself drink so much wine on a Sunday night? It made her Monday even harder to face, with her new bodyguard starting and more work on finding out who was attempting to hack SI. The message from Detective Lance that they might have found the man who threatened her, which meant they needed her to come in to look at him in a line-up, was just another weight on her shoulders. 

It all made her start second-guessing whether she should call Oliver. Because how could she add six kinds of heartache and tension to her life? But then, she didn’t want to stay in this limbo forever. Or even another day. 

Tonight, Felicity resolved. She would call Oliver tonight and ask him if they could get some coffee later this week, if she could tell him more about where she was coming from and ask him if he would talk to her. 

A soft knock on her door told her that Rob must be here to pick her up. Grabbing her purse and her file tote while juggling her phone and keys, Felicity walked over to her door and pulled it open. 

Only to blink in disbelief at the sight of Oliver, standing on her doorstep. 

It was Oliver, and she was tired and still a little hungover and totally had a pimple on her forehead from all the ice cream and concealer could only do so much to hide it. And he looked amazing, although also tired and a little bit sad but maybe . . . hopeful? 

She didn’t understand, which meant she just stood there, blinking at him. 

“Felicity?” 

The sound of his voice broke the spell and made her brain catch up and then some. “Oliver? What are you doing here? You--you just show up on a Monday morning like this?” She stepped back, letting him come into her apartment before swinging the door shut, still holding her bags.

“Um, yeah--I was hoping to see you before you went to work. I’m sorry for not calling, but--” He swallowed and Felicity noticed how the thumb on one hand was rubbing against his fingers. Like a nervous tic.

Oliver was nervous. Oh, God, what had he come here to say? It couldn't be good news--maybe he was going to say that he couldn’t do this, he was going to stay the same, he didn’t want to be a hero, he didn’t want _her_ \--

“I had to see you.”

“What?” Felicity said, feeling lost. She gave her head a shake, trying to stay out of her head and keep her focus on Oliver and whatever he was about to say. There was no way to anticipate what he was going to say--she had no idea where his head was at, what he wanted. So she just had to listen.

“I had to see you,” Oliver repeated. “Last night, with that reporter--”

He had heard about that? Oh, _crap_. Felicity bit her lip as Oliver kept speaking. “When you told him that any woman would be lucky--Felicity, it doesn’t matter if anyone else is interested in me. Because ever since we met, you’re the only woman I can see.”

Felicity felt her palms go clammy. Because that was just so sweet, and Oliver sounded so sincere, and the way he was looking at her, all warm and soft, like she was something special, something _extraordinary_ . . . She didn’t know how to react. 

“But--but even more than that--what you said about me, Felicity--you made me sound like some other person--like someone I’m not,” Oliver said, stuttering in a way she had never heard him before. 

“No, I didn’t,” Felicity said, dropping her purse and tote before stepping towards him. “I described _you_. I know I didn’t tell you this that night, but Oliver--you’re a hero. You want to save Starling City, no matter the cost to you, and that’s what heroes do. I don’t want you to be alone, to be working in the darkness without any help. And I don’t approve of the killing, at all. Not as a first resort. But I know plenty of ‘good guys’ that have done it. They accept that sometimes, there’s people you can’t save and you have to weigh their life versus hundreds or thousands of innocent lives. That’s what you’re doing, Oliver.”

As she spoke, Oliver’s eyes never left her face. So she could see how he reacted. How his breath started coming faster, how his mouth slowly fell open, how his eyes radiated surprise and disbelief and hope.

She took another step towards him. “That’s what you’re capable of--that’s why I can’t help believing in you. That’s why I want you to find another way.”

When she lifted her hand and lightly rested it against his chest, he sucked in a breath. “I--I know. I mean, you--you told me there was another way and I couldn’t see it. But I can now. Or I’m starting to.”

The relief and happiness that flooded through her were probably going to get her into trouble, make her say or do something that she would normally resist saying or doing. But she couldn’t help the wide happy smile that was on her face right now. She couldn’t.

Oliver ducked his head a little, gazing at her. “I came here because I need your help, Felicity. To . . . to figure out what works for me. For the Green Arrow. And I think I could help you, too. At least, I hope I can, even if--even if I don’t know how you need any help, because you’re . . . Felicity. But maybe I can help you be even more amazing?”

This must be what getting swept off your feet felt like. Or being wooed. Because Oliver, Mr. Reserved, Mr. Serious, was standing before her with his heart on his sleeve and in his eyes, looking at her like she was all he needed and everything he wanted while babbling that _she_ was amazing. And she didn’t know what to say, because apparently their positions had reversed, and right now she could only come up with one response to his sweet perfect offer. 

Felicity put her hands on his shoulders and tugged him towards her. He started smiling as he came closer, and then they were kissing and they weren’t smiling anymore, because kissing while smiling wasn’t that good.

But this kiss was good. Very, very good, especially when Oliver wrapped those arms of his around her and made her feel so small and safe, and he was pressing her back against the door and she could feel him against her. Also, Oliver was an unbelievable kisser and she just needed to touch him all over . . .

“Ms. Stark?”

“Huh?” she said, pulling away from Oliver, who . . . had somehow lost his shirt. And holy shit, _that_ was what he looked like underneath his plaid button-downs and tuxedos? All muscled and perfect, even with the horrible scars that crisscrossed his torso? 

A jaunty knock in the shave-and-a-haircut rhythm hit her door, and then the voice spoke again. “Ms. Stark? It’s Rob Scott. I’m here to take you to work.”

“Oh!” Felicity ran her hands through her hair and tried to straighten her dress, which was difficult with Oliver refusing to let her go.

“Tell him you’re working from home, Felicity,” Oliver whispered in her ear.

“I can’t do that,” she muttered, somehow managing to break free of him and pulling the door open, keeping the door between Oliver and Rob. She pasted a smile on her face as she leaned against the edge of the door, the doorknob pressing against her hip. “Rob, hi, sorry about that.” 

Standing at attention with his clasped hands resting in front of him, Rob Scott nodded and gave her a friendly smile. “Hard to get started on a Monday, isn’t it?” 

“It is,” she said. “Just--just give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to go. This place is a mess, so do you mind waiting in the hall?” 

“It’s not proper procedure . . .” he said slowly, just as Oliver reached out and ran his hand down her side, making her shiver. 

“Ms. Stark?” Rob asked, frowning. He made a series of exaggerated faces at her and Felicity stared at him, completely unable to work out what he was trying to nonverbally communicate. 

Meanwhile, Oliver had moved his hand to her hip and was stroking it, rubbing the fabric of her dress against her and making her body burn. Flailing out, she shoved his hand away and smiled brighter at Rob. “Just a minute, Rob.” 

And then there was a thud. 

Felicity’s head whipped around, seeing Oliver lift his head from the door with a sheepish expression on his face. He must have leaned forward in frustration and his head had made louder contact with the door than he anticipated. 

“Ms. Stark, I’m coming inside,” Rob said, pushing the door open and then going still at the sight of a shirtless Oliver. 

It might have been her imagination, but Rob seemed to straighten up and stand taller, while Oliver got what could only be described as a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Mr. Queen,” Rob said. 

“Rob,” Oliver replied, his voice full of suppressed delight. 

So that was what Ollie Queen was like, Felicity thought distractedly. She looked at her bodyguard and tried to smile. “Um, Rob, I think I’m going to work from home today, so we can get started tomorrow. Tomorrow will be better, since it’s the first of the month. It’s too bad the first isn’t today, because then a Monday and the first of the month--the perfect time to start a job, I’d say, wouldn’t you?” 

She glanced over her shoulder at Oliver, who was smiling with such amusement at her that her smile became real and shy. 

Turning back to her bodyguard, no longer embarrassed, she said, “So I’ll see you tomorrow, Rob.” 

“Yes, Ms. Stark,” he said, looking like he wanted to turn tail and run. Instead, he let himself out, leaving Felicity alone with Oliver. 

“Oh my God,” she moaned, turning to face Oliver. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to look him in the eye.” 

“Right now, I’m not thinking about your bodyguard at all, Felicity,” Oliver said, advancing towards her and pulling her in for another kiss. 

And . . . yeah, neither was she.

End, Chapter 5


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With all the Arrow fic that I’ve written, it might be funny to reveal that this is the first multi-chapter fic I’ve written that has established Olicity! I hope you enjoy seeing what Oliver and Felicity are like when they’re an actual couple. I used the words ‘fluffy and adorable’, but your mileage may vary. :-) As always, thanks to the inimitable mersayseh for her betaing assistance.

“Miss Stark! Mr. Queen! This way, over here!”

“Felicity, tell us the truth: does Ollie snore?”

“Oliver, any truth that your mother doesn’t like Felicity?”

“Ms. Stark, who are you wearing?”

“Mr. Queen, what’s it like turning over a new leaf?” 

The reporters’ questions came fast and furious, but not as fast as the cameras clicked. The camera flashes were so blinding, combined with the reporters pressing ever closer. Even after a lifetime of facing the press, Felicity felt a flicker of discomfort that was a lot closer to fear than she was comfortable with. 

And then Oliver was pulling her closer, his hand warm and firm against her hip. “I’ve got you,” he said softly against her hair.

Felicity nodded, keeping her smile in place as they followed Digg and Rob. “I know,” she said, looking up at him and feeling her smile become genuine. It might have set the cameras flashing even faster, but she couldn’t help it. 

Because she was so happy. 

Tonight marked three months of dating Oliver and it had been three of the best months of her life. There were serious threats being made against her division, she still didn’t know why she was being targeted, her parents were getting more and more worried . . . but she could manage all that since there was Oliver. There was Oliver, bringing her lunch when she forgot to eat. There was Oliver, curling up against her in bed and keeping her warm. There was Oliver, strong and steady and sure when she felt uncertain. 

That was the amazing, wonderful, unexpected thing about dating Oliver: he never wavered. In his past, he might have been a flighty playboy, loving the one he was with. But with her, there was not even a hint that he thought of any other woman but her. 

It took her breath away and made her feel giddy and sometimes started her considering if what she had with Oliver might be more than just good. If it might be . . . everything. 

Felicity let out a breath once they got inside the Starling Grand Hotel. Oliver leaned down and kissed her temple. “That was a bad one,” he said, rubbing her hip gently. 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I thought that it’d die down--all the attention on us--but it seems like it’s just getting worse, the longer we date.” 

Oliver’s eyes fixed on hers. “Are you okay?”

 _My sweet adorable vigilante_ , she thought with a small smile. Going up on her toes, she pecked his lips. “I’m good. I just never thought I’d look back fondly on my three paparazzi in LA, looking bored when I went to work and shopping and never did anything scandalous. Starling City: we’re number one in covering our local celebrities!” 

“I guess I never realized how bad it was. Not until I came back,” Oliver said quietly, taking her hand. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” she reassured him, squeezing his hand. “Big fish in a small pond, the new is exciting, and a bunch of other proverbs: that’s what we are right now. It doesn’t bother me that much. And the easiest way to fix it is not an option.”

“Which is . . .?” Oliver asked as they stepped into the ballroom for the Queen Foundation’s Casino Night fundraiser. 

“Breaking up,” she said simply. 

His hand gripped hers tightly before relaxing. “Yeah, not an option,” he replied, looking at her with those eyes of his that were blazing with emotion. 

“So we’ll figure it out,” Felicity said, smiling and attempting to wink at him. 

Oliver laughed and they moved into the crowd, doing the usual mingling and small talk that happened at these events. Which was great, because it let her ponder this whole situation a bit deeper. 

Her reassurances to Oliver aside, it _was_ a problem. Not just for her, but for Oliver. Because he was still convinced he needed to keep his identity as the Green Arrow a secret, and with the paparazzi following their every move, together and separately . . . it was just a matter of time before he would get unmasked. And she just knew, in her bones, that it would be bad. Oliver had endured so much, survived so many difficult situations. She didn’t want him to face another one if he could prevent it from happening in the first place. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t understand his counter-argument. And it was a good one: the possibility of people he cared about being targeted in order to get to him. Because it wasn’t like she could do much to defend herself against the Triad or terrorists or anyone who had a beef with the Green Arrow. But . . . but knowing his secret let her be cautious. To make decisions that were better-informed. She knew how much he loved his mother and his sister. Keeping them in the dark made them less safe, not more. 

But that was part of being in a relationship, Felicity was discovering: knowing when to push and when to pull back. There were times when it was better to not continue an argument, letting it sit so they could both calm down. And his secret identity was one of those arguments. 

At least they were learning how to compromise on other things, she acknowledged. Like how Oliver worked as the Green Arrow. He had admitted to her that even before she had learned who he was, he had doubts about how he was fulfilling his duty. “It just doesn’t seem to be working,” he had said last week, when they had been curled up in bed together. “I cross off one name on the List, someone else pops up and takes his place. But going after random muggers doesn’t seem to do enough to solve the problem, either.” 

Felicity didn’t know what the answer was. But she was certain that they could find it together, with Digg’s help. And when she told Oliver that, the relief that had flashed across his face had made her heart clench. Then he leaned in to kiss her and they were more focused on other answers. Much more personal ones. 

Hiding her smile in her glass of champagne, Felicity spotted Tommy and Laurel and waved at them. “Well, you two both look stunning,” she told them as they approached.

“I try not to, but it keeps happening,” Tommy said, kissing her cheek lightly and grinning before turning to Oliver and drawing him into conversation. 

Laurel rolled her eyes but smiled brightly. “That’s his favorite line now--he told me the same thing earlier when I said he looked handsome.” 

With a laugh, Felicity shrugged. “Men. They think they’re so clever.” 

“You look wonderful, too. Red must be your favorite color; it’s all I see you in lately,” Laurel said. 

“It’s one of my favorites,” Felicity replied, not quite ready to share girl talk with Laurel about her ex. Because Felicity wore red because Oliver liked her in it. “How are you doing? I heard CNRI just won a big case against John Nickel” she said, changing the subject.

Pride and pleasure lit up Laurel’s face as she replied. “We did. Nickel was the biggest slumlord in the Glades. Not only is he behind bars now, his ill-gotten gains are being used to build new, safe homes for residents. A win-win.” 

“Sure sounds like it,” Felicity said, smiling at Laurel. “If there’s anything Stark Industries can do, just give me a call.” 

Laurel opened her mouth to reply, but another voice spoke instead. “If Stark Industries stays in Starling City much longer, that is.”

Felicity wasn’t the only one whose spine stiffened at the appearance of Malcolm Merlyn. Tommy immediately lost his smile and stepped closer to Laurel. And Oliver moved to Felicity’s side, his hand resting on her back. She glanced up at him quickly, not quite sure at his reaction, before she focused back on Malcolm. 

“Mr. Merlyn, you must know something I don’t,” she said, putting on a smile. “SI came to Starling with an eye on the long-term. I’m certainly not going to let a few minor problems derail this train.” 

“A few minor problems? Such an understatement, Miss Stark,” Malcolm said. “I wouldn’t call constant cyber-attacks and a kidnapping ‘minor’. But then, the young are prone to the flaw of misguided confidence. The young and the naive.” 

WWPD: What Would Pepper Do? Was it better to brush aside his insult and thank him for his concern, or should Felicity challenge him and stand her ground? If she wasn’t in public, surrounded by cameras, Felicity would rather tell him to kiss her ass. But since she couldn’t . . . 

“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Merlyn. It’s so nice to see that business isn’t nearly as cutthroat as it’s made out to be,” she said, giving him a wide, innocent smile. “Those cyber-attacks have come to a near-standstill in the last few weeks, thanks to the new firewall I’ve developed. You know, we’re going to be packaging that firewall as part of a new network protection suite: perfect for corporations. I would love to discuss it with the IT department at Merlyn Global and offer it at a reduced rate, as a thank you for your worries.” 

Laurel let out a soft cough that sounded more like a snort and Oliver’s hand on her back stopped feeling protective and felt more flirty, his fingers now tracing her spine. She gave another smile to Malcolm, who pressed his lips together, nodded, and walked away. 

“That was awesome,” Tommy said, holding his hand up to Felicity for a high-five. “How did you do that?” 

She slapped his hand back and then leaned back against Oliver’s chest. “I was pretending to be my mom.” 

“There’s no way she could have done that better than you,” Oliver said, grinning at her as he leaned down to kiss her. 

Of course she kissed him back--Felicity never passed up a chance to kiss Oliver. But several different ideas were starting to come together in her head, and she was pretty sure she had just come up with one solution for everything that was challenging her right now. Her and Oliver.

XXX

Normally, the car ride back to her place after their dates was quiet. Especially when they had Digg or Rob driving them; it wasn’t a matter of not trusting their bodyguards, it was more about keeping some things private. So usually, Oliver would wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her against his side and they rode home in soft silence. 

But tonight, they were barely in the car before Felicity turned to him. “I have an idea.” 

“A creative, illegal, but non-arrestable way to make Malcolm Merlyn go away forever?” Oliver asked, tugging on his tie and undoing his collar button. “It’s bad enough that he cut off Tommy--I don’t like the idea of him making problems for you and Stark Industries.” 

“My place, Digg, please,” Felicity called out once Diggle was behind the wheel. Then she looked back at Oliver. “No. We go away, not Malcolm. I’ve been putting it off, but it’s time I admitted that I really need to go to LA and work with the people at SI’s main office. Get more help in tracing where the hacking attacks are coming from and gather what we need for prosecution to happen.” 

Oliver had gone tense as soon as she started talking. “Okay, so that explains you going away . . .” 

Taking his hand, Felicity laced her fingers through his. “It may take me a few weeks. So I thought you could come with me, at least for part of it. I want to get out of Starling, so I can stop having to put on makeup when we go to Jitters for coffee, so we don’t have to add an extra hour to any outing to account for the photographers.” She paused. “We need a break to just be us.” 

“So what have we been doing all this time? Or maybe what I’ve thought is going on with us isn’t what you’ve thought it is,” Oliver said, his voice sounding frustrated and upset even as his hand clutched hers and he barely made eye contact with her. 

“Hey,” she said, reaching out and taking his chin in her free hand, lifting his eyes to hers. Feeling a flutter of panic inside her. “We are an us. The press and your big green secret, that doesn’t change what’s going on between you and me. I just--I’m not used to feeling like this, and I thought getting away together, going someplace where we’d attract less attention . . . it’d be a nice break.” 

His jaw slowly relaxed under her fingers as he took two of those in-and-out breaths he did whenever he needed to settle himself. “So--so you want us to take a vacation together?”

Felicity nodded quickly, moving closer to him. “A working vacation for me, but yes. We can take a picnic to the Griffith Observatory and watch the stars. Drive along Mulholland Drive and the PCH. Go see movies at the Arclight.” She paused, chewing on her lip, and spoke carefully. “You could meet my parents.”

And now he was tense again. But Felicity was pretty sure it was a completely normal reaction to what she had just said, and not some sensitive spot she had unknowingly blundered onto. 

“Meet your parents,” Oliver said slowly, before he quirked an eyebrow. “How do you know I haven’t met them already?” 

“You haven’t, because I would know,” Felicity said. At Oliver’s confused look, she shrugged. “If it’s online, I can find it.” 

He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “You know, if that was the whole point of this, you could have just said so.” 

“Um, no,” Felicity said, curling in against him. “Because I have no idea how my parents are going to react to you.” 

Oliver’s arm wrapped around her, his hand stroking her back. “To me, or to the Green Arrow?” 

“I haven’t told them,” Felicity said immediately, lifting her head to look at him. “It’s not my secret to tell. I mean, I told them the same thing I told Caitlin: that you want to make Starling City better, but I don’t always agree with your methods.” 

Yet again, she was struck by how much Oliver’s eyes gave away what he was feeling. She didn’t know how he had been able to fool so many people about who he really was, because if they just looked into his eyes, they would know exactly who the real Oliver Queen was. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, reaching out to slide his thumb along her jaw. She closed her eyes as he tilted her head and kissed her gently. 

For a few minutes, they kissed slowly, keeping it soft and easy. It made her breathless, the feelings that a look or a touch from him created inside her. Combined with how very good Oliver was at kissing her and Felicity felt her anticipation rising at the potential of this trip. At all the time she would get to spend with Oliver, introducing him to some of the places and people she loved. 

She nuzzled him, the rasp of his stubble against her skin so good, and looked up at him. “So that’s a yes? You’ll come to LA with me?” 

There was a moment of hesitation--or maybe it was more a weighing of different choices. Because she knew that Oliver wanted to say yes. But there was more than his own desires hanging in the balance. 

“Yeah,” he said softly, his voice low. “Let’s do it.” 

The way he said it, without clarification or justification, made her smile brightly. She hugged him tightly and then let out a little squeal. 

“Oh, this is going to be so amazing. We can take the jet down next week--your jet or mine?” she asked him with a grin. “Oh, I’ll need to call my mom and tell her, so JARVIS can get our rooms ready. I’ve told you about JARVIS, right?” 

“Yeah, you have--wait, we’re staying at your parents’?” Oliver’s voice sounded slightly strangled, but Felicity was already talking to Pepper.

XXX

As Happy pulled the car up in front of her parents’ house, Felicity felt a wave of happiness. It was like the click of a tab sliding into a buckle: she was home. 

Turning to look at Oliver, she wondered if he had felt something like this when he came back to Starling. She reached out and rested her hand over his, stilling his rubbing fingers. “You don’t have anything to be nervous about. Anything you did in your drunken playboy days, my father did--and he took a lot longer to get out of that phase.” 

“That’s not very reassuring, Felicity,” he said, turning his hand to slide his fingers between hers. “Because I really doubt he wanted his only daughter to get involved with a guy like he used to be.” 

“That’s not who you are now,” she countered, nudging his shoulder with hers. “You’re not Ollie Queen anymore. Just stand your ground and Dad will be okay with you.” 

Oliver looked at her and finally gave her a small smile. “But you told me it was your mom I should be worried about.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Felicity said, kissing his cheek. “But you’re going to charm them both and this trip will go great.” 

“I think you’re so excited to be home that you’re being a bit too optimistic, Felicity.” 

Maybe. She certainly felt excited. Ever since Oliver had agreed to come with her, it had been hard to hold down her enthusiasm. Felicity hadn’t realized how good the bright sunshine and familiar environs of LA would make her feel. But as soon as they had stepped off the jet, she had felt more positive than she had in weeks. 

With her dad’s help, and the people at the main office, she would figure out why Advanced Technologies kept getting targeted. She would reassure investors who were nervous about Stark Industries by selling them on her processor. And best of all, she would get to expose Oliver to something he had never seen before: people who combined living their lives with being a superhero. 

She hadn’t wanted to tell him that, but she couldn’t help hoping that seeing how it was possible for him to be the Green Arrow, openly and freely, would help him let go of this secret. To get the recognition he deserved, to live the life he wanted to live, outside of the shadows. 

“Here we go, Felicity,” Happy said, opening the door for her. 

“Thanks, Happy,” she said with a grin, waiting for Oliver to get out of the car before taking his hand. “Ready?” she asked him, watching as he looked up at the ultra-modern house, perched in the Malibu cliffs, that had been her home until she moved to Starling City. 

He did that in-and-out breath thing, then looked at her. And that seemed to relax him more than the deep breathing, because he nodded and gave her a soft smile. “Ready.” 

Unable to wait, Felicity dashed for the front door, tugging Oliver along with her. She threw open the door and called out, “Mom? Dad?” 

“Mr. and Mrs. Stark are in the kitchen, Miss Stark,” JARVIS said, making Oliver jump. 

“Thank you, JARVIS! This is Oliver,” she said. “We’ll get him scanned later.” 

“Very good. Welcome, Mr. Queen,” JARVIS replied, sounding amused. 

Felicity headed towards the kitchen, only for Oliver to stop her. “Scanned?” he asked quietly, looking up at the ceiling with trepidation. 

“Voice and retinal scan, so JARVIS will respond to your commands and know which parts of the house you’re allowed into,” Felicity explained, kissing his cheek. “It’s nothing.” 

“Maybe for you,” Oliver said, his inner Luddite tendencies coming out once again. 

Shaking her head, she kissed his cheek again. “C’mon, you’ll feel better once you meet my parents and get that part over with.” 

Oliver looked doubtful but followed her into the kitchen. Knowing her mother, it was carefully planned: Tony Stark and Pepper Potts-Stark, enjoying a simple lunch as a break from running a multi-billionaire dollar company. But it didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth. 

And the smiles that lit up her parents’ faces when they saw her were true, too. 

“Felicity,” Pepper said, gliding over to her and folding her into a hug. “Oh, you look wonderful.” 

“Thanks, Mom,” Felicity said, hugging Pepper back tightly. “Sorry, I’m wrinkling you.” 

Her mother laughed and stepped back, gesturing to her dress. “Jersey knit. You couldn’t wrinkle me, no matter how hard you hugged me.” 

“That’s why you’re the smartest one here,” she said with a grin, then turning to be hugged by Tony. 

“That’s for damn sure,” he agreed. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then pulled back to look at her. “Okay, princess?” 

Felicity nodded, feeling happy and nervous. She reached out and took Oliver’s hand, who had been standing back and watching her with her parents. There was a touch of wistfulness on his face, which made her give his hand a squeeze. 

“Mom, Dad, this is Oliver Queen,” she said, feeling silly for doing such a formal introduction, but wanting to make it clear that this was the start of a new relationship--that no matter what her parents might know about Oliver, they were all starting from scratch. “Oliver, Tony and Pepper Stark.” 

Oliver squeezed her hand back and then let it go. He stepped forward, a charming smile in place as he held his hand out. “Mr. and Mrs. Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Thank you, Oliver. And please, Pepper and Tony,” her mother said, shaking Oliver’s hand and giving him a smile. Not a very warm one, Felicity thought, but she was trying.

Unlike her father, who stood with his hands in his pockets, his eyes calmly measuring Oliver. “Yeah, I’m Mr. Stark to you,” he said, flashing an insincere grin at Oliver.

“Dad,” Felicity said, frowning at him. 

“No, it’s okay, Felicity,” Oliver said, giving her one of his quirked-lip smiles. “There’s not many parents who are excited when their daughter brings home a guy. I’m taking notes for later, so I’ll know what to do when Thea does it.” 

“Thea’s about seventeen now, isn’t she?” Pepper asked smoothly. 

Oliver got that smile on his face that always appeared when talking about his sister. “She actually just turned eighteen a few months ago.” 

“It seems like just yesterday Felicity was turning eighteen,” her mother said nostalgically.

“Barely four years ago,” Tony grumbled. 

It was all Felicity could do not to roll her eyes. Pepper seemed to be restraining the same impulse. “Of course, she was already more than halfway through MIT at that point, so it wasn’t the traditional ‘welcome to adulthood’ kind of moment,” Pepper said to Oliver. 

“And when you turned eighteen, Queen, you were starting the first of the four colleges you flunked out of, right?”

“Tony,” Pepper said calmly, but with steel underneath the calm, “given the stories that Rhodey has told me, there were a few times you came close to being thrown out of MIT, if it hadn’t been for your money.” 

“In my defense, I only flunked out of one school,” Oliver said, wrapping an arm around Felicity. “The other three, I just stopped going.” 

Her father pressed his lips together and Felicity hoped they might be able to call this a draw. But of course, Tony Stark always had to have the last word. “And it’s not like you need a degree to dress up in green leather and put arrows in people, is it?” 

Felicity felt Oliver’s hand spasm against her back, the polite smile on his face turning into more of a grimace. 

“This was not how we were going to discuss that, Tony,” Pepper said, giving him a look that made Felicity think her father was going to be sleeping in his lab tonight. 

“Why not? Tear the band-aid off. Get it out in the open. And since we weren’t sure if Felicity knew, her reaction--or the complete lack of one--tells us that she does know,” Tony said brightly, his voice full of bluff and bullshit. “She probably figured it out for herself, since anyone with two braincells to rub together would have seen the clues. Not that I’m saying people in Starling are dumb--the police did try and pin it on you, right? The whole ‘I am the Green Arrow’ thing? Nice job wiggling free of that one, Queen. I guess Barton isn’t dumb because he’s an archer, he’s just that dumb.” 

She didn’t even have to look at Oliver to know what he was feeling. Because it was probably along the lines of what she was feeling: vulnerable. Exposed. Stripped down and made bare, in the most embarrassing fashion possible. 

Fumbling a little, Felicity reached behind her back and took Oliver’s hand. “Let’s go see if Happy has taken our bags out of the car, Oliver. Because if he has, he’ll have to put them back.” 

“Felicity, no,” Oliver said quietly. “I--you stay, I’ll go. I can get a hotel room--” 

“Neither of you are going anywhere,” Pepper said firmly. “Tony, you’re being an ass and you’re ruining Felicity’s first visit home. I won’t have my daughter staying in a hotel because her father insults her boyfriend.” 

“I can go,” Oliver repeated, trying to let go of Felicity’s hand. 

Tony let out a deep sigh. “No, stay. I’ll have no peace if you leave, and . . . whatever. I don’t want to ruin Felicity’s vacation.” 

It wasn’t an apology. Her father didn’t apologize. But . . . but it was a peace offering. Felicity looked up at Oliver, telling him silently that if he was willing to stay, she was, too. 

His eyes searched hers, then he nodded. “Okay,” he said, his shoulders still a bit tense. 

“Great,” Pepper said, trying to sound chipper. “Are you two hungry? There’s plenty of chicken salad, and Felicity, I’ve got that pineapple juice you like.” 

Almost in unison, Tony stuck his tongue out as Oliver wrinkled his nose. “Pineapple juice?” Oliver asked. 

“It’s awful but she loves it,” Tony said. 

“You should try it,” she told Oliver. “Maybe your taste buds are more sensitive, more refined, than my dad’s.” 

Tony snorted, Oliver smirked at her a little, and Felicity couldn’t help smiling. If her father and her boyfriend formed a bridge over their shared distaste of pineapple juice, Felicity was willing to be the butt of all their jokes. 

Maybe this trip would turn out okay. After all, it wasn’t about how you started, but about how you finished, right?

XXX

“I’m telling you, Caitlin, it’s fascinating and frustrating at the same time,” Felicity said, stretching out on a chaise lounge by the pool while talking to her best friend. She tugged on her swimsuit a little, revealing a bit more cleavage, and frowned as Oliver didn’t seem to notice at all. 

Mostly because Oliver was more interested in shooting arrows at her father. 

After a week and a half of baiting, Oliver had finally snapped and agreed to see how the Green Arrow was matched with Iron Man. Which meant her father had suited up and Oliver did his best to hit him. Given that her father had been playing this game with Hawkeye for years--and Clint had yet to land a solid hit on Tony--Felicity wasn’t sure how Oliver would do. 

Felicity had never seen Oliver really display his archery skills. And something about seeing her boyfriend, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his eyes narrowed and focused as he lifted his bow and aimed at her father . . . well, it shouldn’t be hot, but it was. Thus the tugging on her bikini top to pump up her boobs a little. 

Even though she had been surprised he had brought his bow with him. And a little annoyed--he was on vacation, after all. But she couldn’t complain now, since not only was she getting a show that she was going to remember later--while imagining what would have happened if her father hadn’t been here--but it had let her father and Oliver finally interact with something other than strained politeness.

Men were so strange. 

“I thought you’d be happy that they’re getting along. In a way.” Caitlin’s voice was amused yet sympathetic. 

“I am happy. It’s just . . .” 

Letting her voice trail off, Felicity nibbled on her lower lip. This wasn’t something she wanted to talk about over the phone. No, this was a conversation to be held in person, over wine or margaritas, when her boyfriend and her parents were well out of earshot. And this conversation was based off feelings that were so big and so overwhelming, Felicity didn’t even want to hint at them in a phone call. 

“I’m sorry, Caitlin, I’ve got to go,” she said, feeling bad about the white lie and the abruptness of her response, but not knowing any better way to end the call. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Sure, Felicity. Anytime, you know that,” Caitlin said. 

“You’re the best and I love you,” Felicity said with a smile. She hung up the phone and then adjusted her chair, rolling over onto her stomach and resting her chin on her folded hands. She closed her eyes and let the sound of the repulsors firing and the bowstring twanging lull her into a light doze. In this state, she could think things over. 

When she had gotten the idea to come to LA with Oliver, she thought it would be fun. A relaxing break from the fishbowl that was Starling City. And it had been just that. In Los Angeles, there were plenty of celebrities, so unless you were in the middle of a scandal or went to the trendy hot spots, you could avoid the paparazzi fairly easily. Outside of Starling, Oliver had a fairly low profile--a case of the city’s insularity paying off--so they had been able to go out without any of the hassle they usually experienced in his hometown.

But being away hadn’t only relaxed Felicity. It had worked some kind of magic on Oliver, too. Or maybe it was just getting to spend so much time together, but . . . but every day, she found herself finding more to admire and like and be amused by in Oliver. 

Honestly? She was finding more to love about him. And that made her second-guess everything. 

Because they had barely known each other for six months, and they had only been dating for three. That wasn’t long enough to know if you loved someone, right? To think that your boyfriend might be the one? There was still so much she didn’t know about Oliver, about his past, about what he wanted for the future . . . 

Although she did know one thing. He was very serious about her. 

She nibbled on her lower lip. With spending so much time together, she had realized that Oliver’s feelings for her were intense. She hadn’t realized that the reason you could tell what he was feeling by looking into his eyes was due to how strongly he felt things, how deep and all-encompassing his emotions were. Whether he was happy or sad, angry or embarrassed, you knew it because he was sensitive and emotional. 

And she was pretty sure what he felt for her was equally as strong as those other emotions. Strong and overwhelming and . . . amazing. And above all else, scary. 

What if she had met the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with? What did that mean for her? She was only twenty-two; wasn’t that too young to find the love of her life? 

“Felicity?” 

Jerking up, Felicity braced herself on her forearms, blinking at Oliver. He grinned at her. “Hey. Did I wake you up?” 

“Oh--no, I wasn’t asleep,” she said, brushing her hair out of her face before looking up at him. “How’d it go, with my dad?” 

Oliver pursed his lips. “I nearly got him.” 

Almost against her will, Felicity found herself smiling at him. “Awww.” 

“I can do it,” he said, a bit stubbornly. “I just need to practice more.” 

“And by practice, you mean, shoot even more arrows at my father?” 

He chuckled and leaned in, kissing her lightly. Her eyes fluttered shut, feeling the rush of happiness she always got when Oliver touched her. The desire, the attraction--it had been there from the beginning. But the longer she knew him, the more she found out about him . . . the more she wanted to know. The more she wanted to tell him how much she liked him, how proud she was of him, how much she admired him. 

“Ease up on the kissing there,” Tony said, his suit clanking a little as he walked past. 

Rolling her eyes, she looked up at Oliver and smiled a little, trying to act normal. “I do think you’re growing on him.” 

“Maybe,” Oliver said doubtfully before stroking her shoulder. “I’m gonna go shower. You wanna get some lunch afterwards?” 

“Um . . . yeah. Yeah, that sounds great,” she said, managing to smile at him, even as her mind was whirling with turmoil. 

“Great.” He kissed her again and then straightened up, heading into the house. 

Felicity watched him walk away--because she couldn’t not do that, with Oliver’s jeans-covered ass right in front of her--and then snatched up her phone. She rolled over as she waited for Caitlin to pick up. 

“I didn’t expect to hear from you this soon,” Caitlin said in surprise when she picked up. 

“Yeah, I know, but--but I’m freaking out,” Felicity said, wrapping her free arm around herself. 

“Felicity? What’s wrong?” 

Taking a deep breath, Felicity tried to calm her racing heart. “Caitlin, I . . . I think I might be in love with Oliver.” 

“And that’s making you freak out?” Caitlin sounded confused, and hearing it out loud, Felicity could understand that reaction. Because why was she freaking out? Wasn’t falling in love a great thing? Something everyone wanted? 

“I . . . yeah? Because it’s too soon. This is way too fast. I mean, I feel like I barely know him sometimes. And--and he’s older than me, and what if he wants more than I’m ready for? And this is crazy, because he’s Oliver Queen--have you seen what he looks like? He’s--he’s beautiful, Caitlin, and he’s been through so much and I don’t want to hurt him. But what if I do? What if I tell him I want to slow down? What if--”

“Whoa!” 

Caitlin’s Loud Voice halted Felicity’s babble, making her jaws click shut. 

“Okay,” Caitlin said, in a normal tone of voice, after a long moment. “I know this is scary, Felicity, but freaking out is counterproductive. You need to talk to Oliver about this. About how you’re feeling, about your fears and worries.” 

Lifting a hand, Felicity rubbed her face. “You make it sound so easy. But just the thought of saying I might have doubts to Oliver, and seeing his face . . .” 

“What about his face if he asks you to move in, and you say no in a knee-jerk reaction? Because you haven’t talked about not being ready for something that serious?” 

“That’s the thing--I don’t know if I’m ready or not,” Felicity said, wiggling on the chaise a little. “I mean, do you ever know if you’re ready?” 

“Ronnie and I are talking about moving in together,” Caitlin said in a rush. “In that ‘yeah, we’re gonna move in together pretty soon’ kind of way.” 

That made Felicity sit up, her own problems forgotten. “Oh my God, Caitlin! Really? When did this happen?” 

“Last night--he just asked me, if I had ever thought about living with a boyfriend, because I was telling him all about what happened with Barry--which wasn’t his fault, but you know what happened--and . . . and if I had any idea he was asking me about it because he wanted to move in with me, I would have said I didn’t want to do it again, but then he told me how much he hated going back to his place alone and all I could think was . . . yes.” Caitlin sounded downright giddy, which was unusual for her practical friend. It made Felicity smile. 

“Okay, we totally need to do a double-date this weekend. I want to see this Ronnie and make sure he’s good enough for my best friend,” Felicity said. “No excuses, okay? Because I also want you to meet Oliver.” 

“Believe me, I want to meet him, too. I need to see these heart eyes in person. The ones that _People Magazine_ keeps talking about,” Caitlin said impishly. 

Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. “Oliver does not have heart eyes when he looks at me.” 

“Mmm-hmmmm,” Caitlin said, her voice amused. 

“You will have dinner with us and you’ll see that he doesn’t,” Felicity retorted. “Okay, I’m going to go, I have to get ready for lunch with Oliver.” 

A soft noise made Felicity turn towards the doorway, but there was no one there. Giving her head a shake, she focused on saying goodbye to Caitlin before rising from the chaise lounge. 

There was a lot to think about. A lot to consider. But for now, she just wanted to go have lunch with her boyfriend and enjoy spending time with him. She could handle that.

End, Chapter 6


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last week’s chapter was kind of transitional, but buckle your seat belts--it’s gonna be a wild ride for the rest of the fic, if I do say so myself. Many thanks to Mer for the beta and macha for the spot of grammar help.

_I . . . I think I might be in love with Oliver._

_He’s--he’s beautiful, Caitlin, and he’s been through so much and I don’t want to hurt him._

_But just the thought of saying I might have doubts to Oliver, and seeing his face . . ._

_Oliver does not have heart eyes when he looks at me._

Felicity was nearly done with her phone call. He needed to move. He didn’t want her to know he had been eavesdropping. Oliver hadn’t meant for it to happen: he had turned back to ask Felicity if she was going to shower before lunch, only to hear Felicity on the phone. Felicity, saying that she might be in love with him.

It had made him stop in his tracks and just stare at the back of her head, unable to move as he listened to the rest of her phone call. Which was bad, he knew, but if he hadn’t listened . . . he wouldn’t know that Felicity might be in love with him but was also having doubts. 

He shouldn’t feel like he was going to faint from that revelation, should he? Not with the kind of physical condition he was in. 

In a daze, he walked towards his room, trying to cope with this sudden and unexpected prospect. This whole trip, really, he had been having his foundations shaken. Seeing, in so many different ways, how he had been so wrong. 

When he was on Lian Yu, planning his return to Starling City, it had all been so clear, so simple. He would live two lives: Oliver Queen by day, vigilante by night. But the priority would be clearing names off the List, making Starling better, redeeming his father. 

Yet it hadn’t been so clear and simple. Coming home meant his family wanting to reconnect with him, his friends looking for him to return to his old ways. And the curveballs he had been thrown--Laurel and Tommy dating, his mother insisting on a bodyguard, Felicity--changed his path more than he could have ever anticipated. 

And now, here he was, staying with his girlfriend and her parents and finding out that his two lives didn’t necessarily need to be so separate.

As he stepped into the bedroom he had been assigned--not that he had actually used it that much, since he had been sneaking into Felicity’s room each night so far--and started getting undressed, he considered her father. 

There was no way to deny that Tony Stark was a superhero. He had been Iron Man for twenty-five years, served with the Avengers, had done so much good--and he had done it all with the world knowing who was inside the suit. And it was the same for Captain America and Captain Marvel and even that other archer guy, the one that Tony kept baiting him about. Everyone knew who they were and there didn’t seem to be any problems with it. Their families didn’t get targeted, they didn’t seem to have problems balancing their lives with their missions . . . 

It wasn’t logical to him that they made it work. But they did. So why couldn’t he? 

Just the thought of everyone knowing who he was, what he could do, made Oliver’s blood run cold. Because if his mother or Tommy, Thea or Laurel, the SCPD or the Avengers--if they knew what he was capable of, it would create a lot of questions. About how he had acquired his skills, about what he had done. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to deal with those questions. 

Not from the world at large, that is. It would be different if it was Felicity asking. 

Sighing a little, Oliver stepped into the bathroom and began his shower, letting the hot water run over his shoulders and back and legs. This time with Felicity had been everything he could have wanted. It took him back to how he used to be, when he was carefree and certain. When life was nothing but good. 

That was what it was like with Felicity. From the beginning, there had been something about her. Something that called to him, some quality in her that made her important to him. It was so strong, so powerful, that he hadn’t been able to resist her. Especially not once she knew his secret. 

Once she _figured out_ his secret, Oliver thought with a small smile. His girlfriend was so damn smart. Smart and focused and intense, able to achieve so much . . . she was amazing. 

And he was in love with her. 

Taking a deep breath, Oliver lifted his head and let the water hit him in the face. He loved her. It wasn’t like how he had felt about Laurel or Sara or any other woman. It was deeper and stronger and more intense than anything he had ever experienced. And the thing was, he wanted even more. He wanted her to be in every part of his life. Both his lives. 

It was intimidating, thinking of Felicity learning more about the last five years. Knowing what he had done. And he couldn’t help fearing that if she knew his history, if she became part of his future, that her brightness would be dimmed. He was so scared that someday he might have her blood on his hands. But part of him thought it would be even worse to have her sadness, her despair, her loss of hope, on his hands. 

But then he thought about her parents and he felt a flicker of hope. 

Oliver knew that he and Felicity weren’t like her parents. But . . . Tony and Pepper had a partnership. They knew each other, their weaknesses and their strengths, and they seemed like an unstoppable team. And he wanted that. He wanted that with Felicity. 

She might not be ready. She was younger than him, with a bright future ahead of her. Being with him might not be in her plans. Might not be what she wanted. If she didn’t want something serious, he could understand that. Even if it would be hard, he could wait. 

Even though it was scary as hell, Felicity was the only woman for him. If she chose to walk away, he would let her go. But he was going to do whatever he could to make her want to stay. It would be tough, since he couldn’t reveal he knew about her fears. But he would find a way.

For Felicity, he was willing to do anything.

XXX

Ending his phone call to Digg, Oliver looked up as Felicity breezed into the living room, followed by her mother. “Hey,” he said, unable to not smile at her. He could practically see the happiness coming off her in waves. 

“Hi!” she chirped, kissing him before she plopped down beside him on the couch. She kicked off her heels and took his hand. “Everything okay?” 

He had begged off Felicity’s shopping trip with her mother, partly because he wanted to spend some time talking to Digg about Starling and also because he wanted Felicity to have some time with Pepper. 

And he hated shopping with women. Why did it take an hour to decide between two pairs of identical black pumps? At least, that was how it was when he went shopping with Thea. But Felicity and Pepper were back a lot sooner than he had anticipated. 

“Yeah, everything’s great. Wanted to check in with Tommy and Digg. Make sure Thea wasn’t driving Mom up the wall,” he said, tugging her a bit closer to him. He looked at Pepper and smiled a little, glad that Felicity’s mother had been nothing but nice to him. “Did you have a good time?” 

“It was a very successful shopping trip, especially for Felicity,” Pepper said with a polite smile. “She’s all set for tomorrow night’s party.” 

“Party?” he asked, looking at Felicity. 

She nodded, shifting onto her knees to look him in the eyes. “Yeah . . . Mom asked if we could make an appearance at this cocktail party tomorrow night. It’s going to be full of investors, and we want to reassure them that everything’s okay with the company.” Felicity bit her lip and reached out, lightly running her free hand through his hair. “Is that okay?” 

He would not close his eyes and hum at how good it felt to have his girlfriend’s fingers in his hair--not when his girlfriend’s mother was in the room. But his voice was deeper than normal when he said, “Sure, it’s fine. I know you’re here to do work.” 

The smile that lit up Felicity’s face would have made him agree to anything. He smiled back at her, squeezing her hand. 

“Thank you, Oliver. Felicity, there’s that conference call later . . .” 

Felicity worried her lower lip as she looked over her shoulder at her mother. “We’ve got dinner with Caitlin and her boyfriend tonight.” 

“The call will be over well before your dinner,” Pepper said, a hint of command in her voice. 

“Okay, Mom. I’ll be there,” Felicity said, shifting to sit by Oliver’s side. “I’ll have Happy drive me over for the call.” 

Pepper smiled. “Great. Thank you, sweetheart.” She kissed Felicity’s cheek and then nodded to Oliver coolly before she headed towards her home office, her heels clicking against the floor. 

Slowly, Oliver ran his hand up and down Felicity’s back. “I think your mom is still upset about yesterday.”

“You and my dad, destroying the basement with the second round of ‘target practice’? Yeah, she’s upset about it,” Felicity said dryly, before grinning at him a little. “But she’s more upset with Dad for baiting you.”

All he could do was shrug sheepishly. “I did try, Felicity.” 

“I know,” she said, brushing a soft kiss over his lips. “It’s funny, though. You seem to get on each other’s nerves a lot.” 

Wasn’t that the truth. Oliver didn’t know if Tony was antagonistic because Oliver was Felicity’s boyfriend, or if Tony simply knew how to push all of Oliver’s buttons, but he should try and stop taking the bait. For Felicity’s sake.

“Everything else okay?” she asked, bringing him back to her. “You know, with Starling and everything?” 

Nodding, he wrapped his arm around her waist. “Yeah, Digg said everything’s under control.”

The only reason he had hesitated when Felicity had asked him to come with her to LA was because of his worries about protecting Starling City. Digg had caught his eye in the rear view mirror, though, sending him a silent message, one that he had spelled out the next day. “Starling won’t fall to pieces without you. And I’ll be here to keep an eye on things, give you intel,” his bodyguard had promised Oliver. So even though his conscience wasn’t fully soothed, and he had called Digg pretty much every day, Oliver at least felt like he hadn’t left his city totally defenseless.

“Good,” Felicity replied, curling up beside him and resting her head on his shoulder before sighing. “I wanted to spend the afternoon with you.” 

So had he. He was hoping to talk with her. Start building the foundation for him to reveal just how serious he was about her. But it could wait. They still had a few more days in LA before they were heading back to Starling.

“We’ll be together tonight. And all day tomorrow, right? Before that party?” 

She nodded, smiling at him. “Yeah. I’ve got work to do, but if you want to keep me company during that . . .” 

“I don’t think you’d get much work done if I was around,” he said, pulling her closer and nuzzling her. Breathing her in, feeling her body relax against his. 

“You’re right,” she said softly, her eyes flicking from his eyes to his mouth and back. “I’d be very distracted. Setting such a bad example . . .” 

“Mmm,” he said, kissing her softly. 

Her fingers stroked his jaw, making his eyes drift shut as they kissed. This was good. This was perfect. He didn’t want it to end, ever. 

Slowly, Felicity pulled away. She rested her forehead against his, breathing shallowly. “Now I really wish we could spend the afternoon together.” 

Oliver chuckled and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Me, too. But your mom seemed pretty determined to have you on that call.” 

Felicity nodded, her lips pursed. “Yeah. My progress figuring out these hacking attempts has been slower than we thought it would be. Even though they seemed to have dried up to a trickle, I still want to know who’s responsible.” She shook her head, looking frustrated. “I feel like I’m missing something obvious, but I can’t figure it out.” 

“Hey,” he said, rubbing her shoulders. “You’ll get it.” 

When she didn’t meet his eyes, looking down with her shoulders still tense, Oliver frowned. “Felicity.” 

She glanced up at him and sighed. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. My parents, the employees I’ve known my whole life, the investors . . .” 

“You’re not letting anyone down,” he said softly. “You’re doing all you can. If it wasn’t for you, the company would know a lot less than it does.” Reaching out, he ran his hand to her chin and lifted her face. “You can do this. I lo--”

He cut off his words so quickly, he was surprised he didn’t bite his tongue off. Because this wasn’t the time to tell her he loved her. Not when she was upset about her family’s company, not when she was on the verge of heading into work. Not when she might not be ready for more. 

“I believe in you,” he said in a rush, hoping it covered his slip. 

Behind her glasses, her eyes were soft and shiny, like she was on the verge of tears. But her smile was happy, relieved, and then she kissed him eagerly. 

An electronic-sounding throat-clearing made Oliver break away from Felicity before JARVIS spoke. “My apologies, but Mr. Hogan is waiting to take you to the office, Miss Stark.” 

Felicity let out a soft groan. “Next time we come to LA, we’re not staying with my parents.” 

“Agreed,” he said with a snicker. 

Giving him a quick kiss and a smirk of a smile, Felicity rose to her feet and smoothed down her dress. His hands itched to pull her back down, to keep her with him, but instead, he just smiled at her. “See you later.” 

“Yep,” she said with a returning smile as she slipped back into her heels. “I’m excited for dinner. I can’t wait for you to meet Caitlin.”

“Yeah, me too,” Oliver said. “Also nervous. Maybe more nervous than I was meeting your parents.” 

She let out a soft giggle and kissed him again. “You are very smart, Oliver Queen. Bye.” 

And with that, she dashed towards the front door, looking back at him as she opened the door and stepped outside. 

Once she was gone, Oliver slumped back against the couch. That was close. He couldn’t believe he had nearly told her he loved her. Although maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised, with how strongly he felt it. 

But it didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t tell her until the time was right. Until he knew more about how she felt, until they had a chance to talk. He frowned, then let out an ironic laugh. Oliver Queen, being in love and wanting to talk about his relationship. 

Who would have thought he’d become that kind of man?

XXX

Outside the door of his room, Felicity went up on her toes to kiss him. “I’m going to shower,” she said against his lips. “Give me an hour before you sneak in?” 

Oliver rested his hands low on her hips, nuzzling her. “Or you could come to my room.” 

“I want to,” she said, gazing up at him. “But JARVIS has weird protocols. If I stay in my room, he won’t spill the beans. But if I sneak out . . .” 

“I thought JARVIS was a computer. You always talk about him like he’s a person.” 

Felicity arched her eyebrow. “After living in this house nearly two weeks, you still think he’s just a computer?” 

“Um, yeah?” 

“You’re lucky you’re hot,” she said, grinning up at him. “Come in an hour and I’ll explain all the ways you’re wrong about JARVIS.” 

“When I sneak into your room, we’re not going to be talking about a computer,” Oliver said, stealing a quick kiss and stepping away with a grin, just missing the playful smack Felicity tried to land on his shoulder. 

She pursed her lips. “No insulting JARVIS.” 

“Okay, okay,” he said, smiling at her. “See you in an hour.” 

He opened the door of his room and slipped inside, heading to his bed and falling back on it. Shifting around a little, he drew out his phone. He had left a message for Tommy earlier and Tommy had called him back during dinner, but he hadn’t wanted to interrupt his first meeting with Felicity’s best friend. 

“Hey, Ollie,” Tommy said cheerfully. “Having fun?” 

The leer in his best friend’s voice was so cheerful that Oliver couldn’t help grinning a little. “I am, actually. It’s been good, getting away from Starling.” 

“With your super-hot girlfriend, no less,” Tommy pointed out. 

“We’re staying with her parents, remember,” Oliver said, tucking an arm behind his head. “Not exactly like the vacations we used to take.” 

“Well, maybe if it was just her mother . . .” 

Oliver flinched. “Tommy.” 

He laughed. “What’d you do tonight? Play tiddlywinks with the folks?”

“You do remember who Felicity’s parents are, right? Tony and Pepper Stark, and you’re thinking tiddlywinks?” Oliver shook his head. “No, we had dinner with Felicity’s best friend and her boyfriend.” 

“Man, meeting the parents _and_ meeting the best friend? She’s putting you through the wringer,” Tommy said. 

The old Ollie would have agreed. Actually, he wouldn’t have even bothered to meet the parents or the best friend--that would have been too serious. But that wasn’t him anymore. And he would have missed out a lot if he hadn’t joined Felicity for a double date with Dr. Caitlin Snow and Dr. Ronnie Raymond. 

Getting to see Felicity with her best friend had made him feel like he was sitting next to the sun. Because she was just so bright and sparkling. Whenever he was with her, things felt better, happier, easier. It wasn’t just about her personality--she made him relax. Let him put aside his burdens for a little while and enjoy life. 

“It’s not like that. It was a good time,” Oliver said eventually. 

He could already imagine having more double dates like tonight. Ronnie had seemed like an okay guy--he liked hockey and baseball, at least. And seeing Felicity gently tease both himself and Caitlin . . . it felt good. 

“The best thing about dating Laurel is not having to go through any of that,” Tommy said. “Detective Lance already hates me and I already know Laurel’s best friend.” 

“I almost told Felicity I love her.” 

There was a crash and Oliver sat up. “Tommy?” 

After a moment, his best friend’s voice spoke, sounding doubtful. “I dropped the phone. You love her?”

Part of him wanted to change the subject. Downplay it. But if he couldn’t tell Tommy about this, how could he prepare for telling Felicity? So he took a breath and nodded, even though Tommy couldn’t see him. “Yeah. I love her.” 

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Oliver Queen?” Tommy said in a teasing voice, only to nearly immediately continue. “Which is a bad joke, I realize now. Sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Oliver said, trying to reassure him, even if his words had hit him right in the middle of his insecurities. Because who was Oliver Queen now? He wasn’t always very sure. Especially not now. Because was he a man that Felicity could love? 

Giving his head a shake, he rolled his shoulders. “Earlier today, she was upset about something with Stark Industries, and I was trying to make her feel better and . . . I nearly told her.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

Oliver’s mouth dropped open. “Okay, can you--what does Thea say?--yeah, can you pick a lane? First you’re dropping the phone from shock and now you’re saying I should have told her?”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Tommy said. “I said why didn’t you tell her? Totally different question.” 

“I . . .” Oliver let his voice trail off. There were a lot of justifications for why he hadn’t finished what he started. It was too soon, there was so much Felicity didn’t know about him, she might not be ready to settle down . . . but there was really only one reason. 

Clearing his throat, he said quietly, “I guess ‘cause I’m scared.” 

There was a long silence, and then Tommy said, “Then maybe it’s good you didn’t say it yet. Because if you love someone . . . it doesn’t matter if you’re scared. It’s more important that they know how you feel.” 

The words were like a punch in the gut. Oliver actually felt like he couldn’t breath for a split-second. Because Tommy was right. 

“Now it’s my turn to ask what happened to my best friend,” Oliver said, his voice raspy. 

Tommy chuckled. “Just giving you a little wisdom I’ve picked up.”

“You’re still younger than me, you know. You can’t act all old and wise and adult,” Oliver said. 

“Who’s the one with the girlfriend for longer? I think I win that one,” Tommy joked. 

Oliver pushed himself up. “Okay, I’m hanging up. Because I can’t win and I have a beautiful blonde waiting for me.” 

“Have fun,” Tommy said, still laughing as Oliver hung up. 

He rose from his bed and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, getting ready to go to Felicity’s room. Trying to set aside all his thoughts and just focus on being with Felicity and enjoying himself, enjoying her. 

Telling Felicity he loved her would change so much. He didn’t want to say the words until he was ready to face her reaction. Until he knew he could make that kind of commitment to her, even with the Green Arrow and the List. He could wait. For now, he was going to make love with his girlfriend and forget everything else but her. 

XXX

With his hands in his pockets, Oliver stood in the foyer of Felicity’s parents’ home, waiting for her to come downstairs. She was taking extra time to primp tonight, “because it’s nearly our last night in LA and I want to dazzle you.” 

Even though Oliver had told her that she always dazzled him, Felicity had still decided to spend nearly two hours getting ready. Which was crazy: she was already gorgeous. How could spending two hours make that big of a difference?

He ran a hand down his front, smoothing down the black tie that matched his suit, then looked over at Tony and Pepper, who were waiting with him. They looked suitably coordinated, with Tony, newly returned from some Avengers work, in a navy blue suit and flamboyant tie, while Pepper wore a blue satin cocktail dress. 

Pepper looked at her watch. “If Felicity doesn’t get a move on, we’re going to be late. JARVIS?” 

“Miss Stark is aware of the time,” JARVIS said. “She needs precisely eighty-three seconds.” 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that,” Oliver said, looking around and trying not to feel slightly disturbed.

“You better. Felicity wants to install her own version of JARVIS in her apartment in Starling,” Tony said, a smirk on his face.

Biting back a retort, Oliver pasted on a tight smile and nodded. “Okay, then.” 

“It took me time, too, Oliver,” Pepper reassured him, resting a hand on his arm. “Months, actually, until I didn’t--oh!” 

“Oh?” Oliver said as he turned around. 

And then he understood Pepper’s reaction. Because the sight of Felicity made him want to say oh, and sink to his knees, and stop breathing. 

Her hair was in some kind of half-up, half-down style, with waves that begged to be touched. Her lips were red, not her normal pink, and made him want to kiss her and smear her lipstick. She was wearing super-high heels, all lacy and sexy, ones that would bring her so close to him. But the most amazing thing was her dress. The skirt was short, displaying most of her amazing legs, and the rest of it was all straps and cutouts and . . . 

How was he going to get through tonight and keep his hands to himself, when she had business to conduct? 

Felicity gave him a small smile and then did a little turn, making his heart pound at the sight of the straps crossing her lightly-tanned back. “Dazzled, Oliver?” 

Somehow, he managed to nod, unable to speak. At least, not with her parents standing right there. He had withstood five years of hell, but nothing had prepared him for this. 

“No. Absolutely not. Princess, go upstairs and change.” 

“Tony!” Pepper said as Felicity shot her father a look. 

“That is inappropriate for a business party, with investors and employees there,” Tony said, his eyes round. “C’mon, Pepp, back me up on this.” 

Inappropriate? The dress was so incredibly inappropriate that Oliver wanted nothing more than for Felicity to go upstairs and take it off, but only if he went with her. 

Oliver slid his hands into his pockets and clenched them into fists, working to get himself under control. Pepper and Tony and Felicity argued for a moment, but as he expected, his girlfriend won out. Once Tony had stomped out and Pepper had followed him, Felicity walked over to him. Her smile was equal parts cocky and shy; combined with the rest of her appearance, it was absolutely devastating. 

“Hi,” she said softly, resting her hands lightly on his lapels. 

Swallowing, he managed to find his tongue. “Wow. Felicity . . .” 

“Now you see why I needed the two hours,” she said, gazing at him. 

“You didn’t need it, but at least now it makes sense,” he said quietly, slowly drawing his hands out of his pockets. 

She ducked her head, her eyelids fluttering and her lashes long and dark against her cheeks. 

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, feeling like his heart in his throat. 

Slowly, she looked at him, meeting his eyes. Her tongue flashed out, wetting her lips, and Oliver felt his breath escape him at the gesture. “Thank you,” she said, her voice low and soft.

“Felicity,” he said in a choked voice, as he cupped her face and kissed her hungrily, devouring her mouth. And her hands clutched his biceps as she met his kiss, as she kissed him back with equal desperation. 

Her moan made him draw back from her lips, breathing hard and staring at her. 

“W-wow,” Felicity stuttered out. “Okay, so--so maybe this was all a very bad idea.” 

Oliver huffed out a laugh and dropped his head to her shoulder. “And you’re the genius.” 

She lightly stroked his back. “A really dumb one.” 

Straightening up, he gave her a small grin. “No, you’re just a genius. Because this dress is the work of a brilliant, cunning mind.” 

The little giggle she let out made him smile wider. Helped take the edge off his lust and desire. It was bound to come roaring back, because she had lit a fire in him that couldn’t be denied. But tamping it down, letting it be a gentle, warm blaze instead of an inferno . . . there was something to be said for the anticipation, now that he had gotten over his initial shock at Felicity in that dress.

But it was going to be a long night. Now he was thankful that he had suggested driving them to the party, because if he had to concentrate on gear changes and directions, he wouldn’t get carried away. 

More carried away, he corrected as Felicity turned towards the front door.

“By the way, you look amazing,” she said, taking his arm as they walked towards the silver Porsche convertible in the driveway. “I like the gray suit, but this one makes you look really tall. But you’re always tall, so I can’t explain it.” 

He smiled, feeling the pleasure her compliment gave him. “Thanks.” Then he slowed as he realized that like her parents, they were coordinated: her black dress, his black suit. 

“Oliver?” she said, looking up at him curiously. 

“Yeah,” he said, picking up the pace. “Just a random thought.”

She gave him a puzzled look, but smiled at him as he opened the car door and helped her in. “I should warn you, by the end of the night I will want a ride. For my feet. I mean, a piggyback ride, because my feet will hurt so much, I’ll need you to carry me.” Her cheeks were flushed and he wondered why she was so embarrassed. And then he got an idea when he considered what else she meant by ‘ride’. 

Laughing, he slid behind the wheel and leaned over to kiss her slowly, letting that fire flare up for a moment. “I will give you whatever kind of ride you want,” he said against her lips, giving her a slow smirk. 

Her blush deepened and she pulled back. “We’ve still got the whole party ahead of us.”

“Yeah, we do,” he said, taking a breath and starting the car. 

XXX

If he had realized this party would make the opera seem exciting, Oliver would have--

Well, he wasn’t sure what he would have done differently. There was no way he would have let Felicity come without him, not when she was wearing that dress. These kinds of parties were part of life when you were in business, he knew. And being here to support Felicity did feel good. 

Tonight’s affair was being held in a restaurant in downtown Los Angeles, one with panoramic views of the city from its position on the thirtieth floor. Standing by the bar and sipping from a glass of Scotch, Oliver couldn’t help smiling at the sight of Felicity, moving her hands quickly as she spoke to a group of men. They were all hanging on her words, totally taken in by her. And it wasn’t because of her sexy dress; they were captivated by her. 

Just like Oliver was. 

“So I can’t help but notice how you look at my daughter.” 

With a deep breath, Oliver turned away from the sight of Felicity and faced her mother. Pepper Potts-Stark was graceful, cultured, and polished. But she was also cutthroat and determined, reminding him of his own mother. 

It was an intimidating package, especially when she was asking him about Felicity. 

“I care a lot about Felicity, so I like looking at her,” Oliver said, before gesturing towards one of the bartenders. “Can I get you another drink?”

Pepper nodded, setting her glass on the bar. “Vodka martini, very dry, with three olives.” 

He relayed the order to the bartender and then looked back at Pepper. “I hope you don’t object to how I look at Felicity.” 

“Not in general, no,” Pepper said, her voice light. “It’s more that it makes me concerned.” 

When Pepper didn’t say anything else, Oliver eventually had to ask the question. “Why are you concerned?” 

The bartender set down Pepper’s drink and she lifted the glass with a nod, taking a small sip. Oliver thought that she might be even better at this ‘making him sweat’ game than Moira Queen. 

“Felicity is so intelligent, so bright, that it’s easy to forget how young she really is. She’s still discovering who she is,” Pepper said, choosing her words carefully. “I’m not saying I think you would ever hold her back--for one thing, Felicity’s too headstrong to let any man do that to her--but I did want to know if you were being careful with her. Especially given your line of work.” 

While Tony had made several references to his secret identity and prodded Oliver into demonstrating his skills, Pepper had made no mention of it. Not until now. When she had hit right at one of his deepest fears, the strongest reason to remain under the hood: protecting the people he cared about. 

Oliver lowered his voice as he spoke. “To keep my loved ones safe, I’ve chosen to keep secrets.”

“Which is unsustainable,” Pepper said. “Eventually, you will have to go public--or be forced to. Which will hurt Felicity.” She paused and her voice softened. “It’s clear that you care about Felicity. I’m not saying things with Felicity’s father have been roses and sunshine, but at least I always knew where I stood with him. What mattered most to him. Because he had the courage to stand up and tell the whole world who he was.” She took a long swallow of her martini and muttered softly, “Even if it meant our home getting blown up.” 

“Excuse me?” Oliver asked, not really sure he had heard her. 

“It’s an old story,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Thank you for giving me your attention, Oliver. I do appreciate it.” 

Doing his best to smile, he nodded. “Of course, Pepper. You’re important to Felicity.” 

Her answering smile was soft and warm, not that different from one he had seen on Felicity’s face. But he wondered if Pepper ever beamed like Felicity did. 

Pepper’s smile suddenly faded, a wrinkle appearing on her forehead. “Where did Felicity go?” 

“What?” he asked, turning around to where he had last seen Felicity, then sweeping his eyes around the restaurant. There was no sign of her. 

And for some reason, that made him go tense. 

“She’s probably just in the restroom,” Pepper said, frowning a little. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Oliver said, pasting a smile on his face. “Maybe you could check, though?” 

After a long look at him, Pepper nodded and immediately walked away. Oliver yanked his cell phone out of his pocket and hit Felicity’s contact. He moved away from the bar, looking for anything out of the ordinary, anything that would explain why all his senses were screaming that something was wrong. 

_Hi! This is Felicity. I can’t come to the phone, probably because I’ve been buried under my Netflix queue, so leave me a message and I’ll call you as soon as I finish this Doctor Who episode. Or six of them._

“Felicity, where are you?” he said, hearing how harsh his voice was. He took a breath and spoke again. “I mean, I can’t see you anywhere and--and something feels off. Call me back so you can tell me what an overprotective jerk I’m being, okay?”

Hanging up, he shoved his phone in his pocket, his mind already formulating a strategy. On instinct, he went towards the doors that lead to the kitchen. 

The industrial kitchen was hot and steamy, filled with workers who paid no attention to him. Moving past the prep areas and the ovens, he saw a back door, propped open with a brick against the doorjamb. Making his footsteps light, he drew up to the door and eased it open slightly, trying to get a better view. 

It was a stairwell, with cement walls and glass block windows to provide light--designed for emergency use, it appeared. Cigarette butts littered the floor, indicating where the staff took their breaks. Oliver was ready to step back and look elsewhere, when he heard something. Something that sounded like a thud?

He slipped through the doorway, his fingers twitching, and began moving down the stairs. Balancing speed versus noise, he went as fast as he could, the thuds growing louder. But when he heard Felicity’s voice, he gave up any attempts at being quiet. 

“Put me--put me down. Don’t . . . stop . . . ” 

“Shut up or we’ll gag you, blondie,” a male voice said in a sneer. 

Felicity didn’t sound scared, but she was slurring her words. As if she had been drugged.

She was being kidnapped. 

“What’s that?” another voice said, just as Oliver rounded the corner and took in the sight before him: a tall, skinny man, fumbling with a tablet that was hooked up to an electronic lock by the door to the twenty-third floor. The second man, shorter and stockier, was in a half-crouch, Felicity over his shoulder, when Oliver came into view. 

“Shit!” the skinny man said, but that was all he said before Oliver was on him. Yanking the tablet from the man’s hands, Oliver slammed it into his face, drawing a howl, before Oliver hit him in the stomach and the man dropped, curling into a ball.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the stocky man advancing on him, Felicity resting on the ground behind him. And the thought that this waste of a human being had drugged the woman he loved, was trying to kidnap her and take her from him . . . 

Oliver lost control. 

His fist flew out, punching the stocky man square in the face. He kept landing punches and within moments, the man’s face was bloody and bruised, more a lump of skin and broken bones than a face. The man was on the ground, whimpering, trying to protect himself from the blows and the kicks, when Oliver got his hands around his neck. He was just starting to squeeze when he heard his name.

“Ol’ver.” 

Turning his head, he saw that Felicity had pushed herself onto one arm. Her dress was dirty and her hair was hanging around her shoulders. But worst of all was her eyes: huge and glassy, filled with confusion and fear. 

“Felicity,” he panted, dropping the man and not caring about the sick, wet thump his head made when it hit the ground. He scrambled over to her, wrapping his arms around her. “Felicity, what happened? What did they give you? Are you hurt?” He checked her eyes, then ran his hands over her arms and back, looking for any injuries, looking for--

“You saved me,” she slurred, her body loose and boneless. “Don’t--don’t hurt ‘em . . . Ol’ver . . . can’t risk findin’ out . . .”

God. His hands were covered in blood and he was touching Felicity. Oliver nearly let her go, but he--he just couldn’t. Instead, he carefully pulled her into his lap. She fell against his chest, the drugs she had been given finally taking full effect as she passed out.

Oliver breathed in and out twice, trying to calm down, trying to purge the adrenaline and fear from his body. He needed to call the police, he needed to call Pepper, he needed to calm the fuck down--

But all he could do was breathe, and bury his face against Felicity’s hair, and hold her. That was all he seemed to be capable of doing. 

End, Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you’re curious, here are Felicity’s shoes: <http://us.christianlouboutin.com/us_en/shop/women/tiny-dentelle.html> . What can I say, I have a shoe thing. :-)


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, yay, I’ve finished writing this story! So now I can officially say, it’s going to be fourteen parts total. Many thanks to mersayseh for her tireless betaing in the midst of her busy summer. I do believe this will be the longest chapter in this fic, so enjoy a little extra content this week. Finally, happy Fourth of July to my fellow Americans! We’ve got universal health care and legalized gay marriage; now we just need gun control to become part of the civilized world!

Once was chance. Twice was coincidence. Three times was a pattern.

Which meant Felicity Stark had to accept there was a pattern going on. Two kidnapping attempts and an in-person threat was enough to convince her that she needed to be more concerned with her own safety.

It wasn’t like she had been reckless! But she had been complacent, she could admit that now. Not bringing Rob with her to LA, thinking the kidnapping and the threat weren’t related . . . she had been lulled into a false sense of security and now it wasn’t just her paying the price. 

Seeing her parents’ faces as she came out of unconsciousness had taken a few years off Felicity’s life. Pepper had looked shaken to her core, her eyes red and both her hair and dress disheveled. Tony . . . her father was even worse. There was a burning anger in his eyes--anger that hid his deep fear. 

Felicity had taken one look at them and immediately started apologizing and making promises. That she would take self-defense classes, that she would actually listen to her bodyguard, that she would be careful. And because her parents loved her, they just wrapped their arms around her and hugged her tightly.

Although right after that, they had laid down the law. Rob was already on his way from Starling, she was to keep the SCPD on speed-dial, and her self-defense lessons would be taught by Natasha. She had tried to argue about that, since the Black Widow, of all people, definitely had more important things to do than reinforce the SING concept, but when Natasha had walked in and told her flatly that wasn’t true, Felicity had shut up. 

At least her father hadn’t brought in the big guns by calling her Uncle Steve. 

As she had been talking with her parents, Felicity had kept looking for Oliver. She didn’t know why, though: she had expected this to happen. Even though he had been the one to save her, to keep her from having anything worse than a few scrapes and a similar-to-a-hangover recovery from whatever she had been drugged with, she guessed he would feel guilty. That he would blame himself for what happened, for not being faster, for preventing the kidnapping from happening in the first place. 

It was something she had noticed about Oliver: how he took the whole world onto his shoulders and did his best to carry it. And while his shoulders were wildly impressive, they weren’t broad enough to carry that load. No one’s were. And she thought it went back to how he used to think he needed to fulfill his duty on his own. She knew he had Digg to help him now, but even then, Oliver was on his own when he was out in the field. And she hated that he was alone and she wished she could get through to him and make him see it didn’t have to be like that.

So she was doing her best to prepare herself for Oliver to pull back. For him to tell her that to keep her safe, he couldn’t be with her. Which would hurt. It would hurt so much. She wasn’t sure if she could stand it. 

But what could Felicity do? Oliver was even more stubborn than she was, so if he decided he had to stay away from her, she would do everything she could to keep him from cutting her out of his life--but she wasn’t sure she would succeed. Or maybe he would show how he was starting to change, starting to grow, by talking to her first and letting her speak her piece before he cut her out of his life. Because if she had a chance to argue with him, maybe she could get him to compromise. 

Yet she wasn’t hopeful. Which was why she was so surprised, when she finally asked about Oliver an hour after she woke up, that her parents both grinned for the first time. 

“Told you she had it bad,” Tony said. 

“Almost as bad as he’s got it,” Pepper replied before turning to Felicity. “He’s being questioned by the police. Just down the hall--he refused to leave the hospital while you were here.” 

“He did?” she asked, blinking from the shock and the surprise. 

Tony nodded. “He barely left your side while you were out.” 

“Oh,” Felicity said, leaning back against the pillows. She bit her lip, wondering what was going on with him. 

She didn’t have to wait long: in a half hour, Oliver returned, looking tired and pale, his hair messy and his clothes wrinkled. He was still wearing his suit pants from the party last night, but instead of his shirt and jacket, he was wearing a dingy white t-shirt. His shoulders were slumped and his steps were slow as he walked into her room. 

But as soon as he saw her, the exhaustion that was clinging to him lifted. “Felicity,” he breathed out, before he walked over to her, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her. Right in front of her parents, he kissed her like he kissed her when they were alone. 

It was like drowning and flying and being found after you were lost. One of her hands gripped his wrist, the other lying limp in her lap, as she kissed him back. Because she hadn’t realized, until he had kissed her, just how much she didn’t want him to pull away from her. And now that he hadn’t--because there was no way he would kiss her like that if he was going to do some noble boneheaded move, like break up with her for her own safety--she felt the relief and happiness and love crash over her.

A quiet, ladylike ‘ahem’ made Felicity frown and pull back a little. Then she went crimson as she realized her parents were still in the room. “Oops,” she said softly, sneaking a look at Oliver. Who didn’t look even a little embarrassed at examining her tonsils in front of her parents. Not that she was embarrassed, either, but . . . she didn’t know what she felt. Other than confused. 

“You’re feeling all right?” Oliver asked, perching on the edge of her bed and wrapping his arm loosely around her shoulders. 

Nodding, Felicity looked at Oliver. “Better. I hope I never get drugged again. This is the second time I’ve been high and I don’t understand why people do it willingly. At least this time, I wasn’t suffocating.” At Oliver’s worried expression, she quickly reassured him. “A brownie in college that I didn’t realize had both pot and nuts in it. I had an allergic reaction while buzzed, which is not fun at all.” 

Oliver huffed out a soft laugh and rubbed her upper arm. “Yeah, let’s hope nothing like last night ever happens again.” 

“Yes, please,” she said, moving a bit closer to him. “What happened? I remember . . .” She frowned, her memories hazy, and then her eyes went wide. “You--you stopped it.” 

The arm draped around her tightened, his muscles flexing. “What do you remember?” 

“You should tell us what happened with the police here,” Pepper cautioned, starting to rise from her chair. “I’ll go get the officer--” 

“No, wait,” Felicity said, unable to look away from Oliver. “Just--just give me a minute with Oliver.” 

There was no reply, so Felicity turned her head and saw her parents exchanging silent words. Then Tony nodded and took Pepper by the arm. “C’mon, Pepp,” he said, leading her out of the room. 

The door closed behind them, sounding very loud in the room that only held Felicity and Oliver. She slowly looked back at him, biting her lip as she sorted through the pieces of her memory. 

“You--you saved me again,” Felicity whispered. 

Gently, his hand lifted from her arm to stroke her hair. “When I realized you were gone . . . I had to find you.”

“You--you didn’t--those men, you . . .?” She stumbled over her words, hating that she had to ask him, hating that she needed to know. But she could remember him punching the men who took her--beating them. Could see his hands around the throat of one of them. 

He looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “You said I shouldn’t take the risk.” 

“Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed, reaching out to grab a handful of his shirt. “It’s too dangerous. I don’t wanna lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” Oliver said quietly, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her against him. 

This time, Felicity kissed him. Hoping that half of what she was feeling came through in her kiss, because there was no way she could put these feelings into words.

And from the way he kissed her back, she thought he understood. 

XXX

“No . . . stop,” Felicity muttered, turning over in her bed. She knew she was dreaming. She knew she wasn’t back in the stairwell that smelled of smoke and blood. But every night since her second kidnapping, she found herself there in her dreams. 

Although actually, ‘nightmares’ was the more accurate description for them. Because seeing Oliver’s face when he just missed reaching her in time, when she got thrown into a waiting van--or even worse, knowing he hadn’t listened to her, that his hands had squeezed the life out of that man and how that choice had taken him away from her . . . 

“Felicity! Felicity, wake up.” 

Oliver’s worried, concerned voice finally penetrated her senses, pulling her out of her nightmare with a gasp. She panted, then reached out for him blindly. 

He pulled her into his arms, surrounding her with his strength, and Felicity felt the knot in her chest loosen a little. He was here and she was safe and everything was okay. They would be going back to Starling City tomorrow, Oliver wasn’t being charged with any crime, and between Rob and Digg, she would be fully protected until they knew who was trying to hurt her. 

Yet all those measures and all those reassuring facts weren’t enough to calm her worries. To eliminate her stress.

“Shhhh,” Oliver said softly, kissing the top of her head. “Was it a bad one?” 

Nodding, she rested her face against his neck and took a few deep breaths, taking in that soothing Oliver scent that was his aftershave and just him. 

“I know this is pretty ironic, considering it’s me saying it, but . . . do you want to talk about it?” 

“No,” Felicity said quietly. Not because he held back about his own nightmares, but because she didn’t want to add to his burdens. At least, not until she had tried to figure this out on her own. Because lately, she had been feeling pretty useless. 

Their return to Starling City was delayed two days while the police investigated her kidnapping and further questioned Oliver. It made Felicity jittery and nervous, because she needed to get back to work. It was bad enough she still didn’t know who was trying to hack her division, and that the hackers had even attempted to break into the main SI offices. Delaying her return just meant more work once she got back. 

And then there were her worries about Oliver. If the police didn’t buy his explanation of what had happened . . . His story was similar to the truth: that he had gotten lucky in following the men who had taken her and had dealt with them. But he had claimed that it was his fear for Felicity that had allowed him to so thoroughly incapacitate her kidnappers, and not his finely-honed fighting skills. 

Although the police had said it was unlikely that any charges would be filed against Oliver, she still worried. And now that Rob was always around, that nervous, on-edge feeling--that sense that she was no longer a competent, capable woman--was much worse. Unless her father or Oliver were home and with her, Rob was present. 

Felicity knew Rob was doing his job to the best of his abilities. She knew that she wasn’t capable of defending herself against the people who were trying to hurt her, even with the extra lessons from Natasha before she got called away on Avengers business. But having him watch her all the time, a man she didn’t really know . . . it made her stressed.

Actually, she just couldn’t seem to stop worrying. Couldn’t seem to keep the stress at bay. And that was probably why she couldn’t stop having nightmares. 

Oliver’s hand was warm against her back, moving up and down in soothing strokes. “You’re really good at that,” Felicity said, feeling the dreams drift away. She turned her head and pressed a light kiss against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “The hand rubbing my back thing. You could do that professionally. But you shouldn’t. I want to keep you just for me.” 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice soft and a little amused. 

Tilting her head back, she gazed up at him. Feeling the urge to tell him what had been in her mind since she woke up in the hospital. “I thought you’d break up with me,” she confessed quietly. “I was sure that you’d tell me that it wasn’t safe for me to be with you.” 

His hand stilled on her back. “It . . . It crossed my mind,” he said. 

“Why didn’t you?” she asked, resting her hand over his heart, on top of the tattoo she was pretty sure had something to do with his ability to speak fluent Russian. 

Her hand rose and fell as Oliver took a deep breath. “You had no connection to me--to me or the Green Arrow,” he said slowly. “It didn’t seem like you were being targeted because you knew me, but because someone wanted something from you.” 

“My processor,” Felicity said. 

Oliver nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Even after we started dating, it was about getting your processor. Not getting at me. So . . . so it didn’t seem necessary to push you away.” 

“Necessary?” Drawing back a little, Felicity frowned at him. “That was very practical of you.” 

His hands, which had fallen to her hips when she pulled back, clutched at her. “I also knew it would be impossible to push you away. Felicity,” he said, his eyes locked on hers, “I didn’t think I could have anything like this. Like you. I still don’t think I deserve you, but--but I--I just can’t seem to let you go.” 

“Hey, hey,” she said softly, stroking his shoulder. “I don’t want you to let me go.” 

She could see the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed, as he handled the emotions that were churning in the depths of his eyes. And then he leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers, once, twice, before a hand slid up her back and into her hair, holding her as he kissed her. 

For a few long, perfect moments, they just kissed. Felicity’s eyes dropped shut, soaking up how good this felt, how much she cared about him. How much she wanted to tell him she loved him. 

But she held back, because she didn’t want him to think her admission was due to her nightmares or feeling unsafe. No, when she told Oliver how she felt about him, he would know that there would be no reason for doubt or disbelief. He would know how certain she was. He deserved that. 

“And here I thought,” she whispered against his lips before pressing kisses along his jaw, “that you were looking to get into the bodyguard business.” 

His chuckle was warm and sexy against her neck. “Mmmm, maybe . . . Rob does make it look really easy.” 

Felicity laughed softly. “Tell me again what is your problem with him?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. All Oliver had told her was that Rob had briefly taken over for Digg several months ago, but he hadn’t explained exactly why he delighted in baiting her bodyguard. 

Oliver shrugged and grinned. “If an Ivy League dropout like me can give him the slip so easily, I worry about how quickly he’d catch on when you do it.” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Queen,” she said, adopting a haughty tone, “I’ve promised to not do that.” 

“Mm-hmmm,” Oliver said, kissing her neck and making her lips part as she breathed deeply. “You have. But I’m sure there’s going to be a situation where you’ll want to get away from him. When you might want to be alone with someone.” 

Sighing, Felicity ran her hand through his hair. “You’re right. Good thing I’m so safe with you.” 

A slight tremor went through Oliver and Felicity shifted, trying to look at his face. He looked thoughtful, like he was a million miles away. But just as quickly as he went away, he came back. And this time, he sucked slowly on her neck, making her gasp. 

“I will always keep you safe,” Oliver whispered in her ear, the promise and determination and certainty ringing in his voice. And then, he was kissing her hungrily, chasing away all her thoughts and worries and leaving nothing but pleasure. 

XXX

“Ms. Stark, Mr. Queen is approaching. He has just left the elevator, accompanied by Mr. Scott.” 

“Thank you, DAVIS--and I told you, it’s Felicity and Oliver and Rob,” she said, moving around her apartment. 

Her father had finally given her the JARVIS source files, and Felicity had done a quick rework on them, naming her version DAVIS: Definitely A Very Intelligent System. It amused her to stake her claim like that, since JARVIS stood for Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. But there were still a few remnants of JARVIS inside DAVIS, such as the inability to call anyone by their first name. 

“Yes, Ms. Stark,” DAVIS said, his Scottish-tinged voice smooth and unruffled. 

“This weekend, I’m fixing that bug,” Felicity muttered to herself. “No letting Oliver distract me.” 

_Ha, right_ , her brain and body laughed in unison.

Refusing to think about it anymore, because she knew how easy it was for Oliver to distract her, Felicity checked the camera that recorded the hallway, then opened the door. “Hi!” she said as Oliver walked towards her, Rob trailing behind him. 

“Hey,” Oliver said, kissing her lightly. They may have been dating for over four months now, but it still made her toes curl when their lips connected. Felicity hoped they never stopped curling. 

Knowing that she was a little flushed, she looked at Rob. “I think that will be all for tonight, Rob. Have a good evening.” 

Her bodyguard nodded. “Yes, Ms. Stark. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

She gave him a little salute, one that made Oliver choke back a laugh. Felicity nudged Oliver and then smiled at Rob. “Good night,” she called out as she closed her apartment door. 

“You’re very cute,” Oliver said, grinning at her. 

“And you’re late,” she said, going up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. “Did you have to go to Mexico for the burritos?” She lifted the bag of food from his hand, ready to go into the kitchen and get plates, when he wrapped his hand around her wrist, halting her movement. 

A flicker of something flashed across his face and his grin faded. “Actually,” he said, clearing his throat, “I was doing something and I lost track of time.” 

“Doing something?” she asked, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. It wasn’t like Oliver to start a conversation like this. 

He nodded. “I was--I was looking at apartments.” 

Felicity blinked. “You were?”

Ever since he had returned from the island, Oliver had been living with his mother and sister in the Queen Mansion--when he didn’t spend the night with her, that is. Although his relationship with his mother was strained, Felicity knew Oliver stayed in the mansion to be close to his remaining family and to keep an eye on Thea. So she was surprised that he was thinking about moving out. 

“Yeah,” he said, his fingers rubbing against her wrist. “I was trying to see what sort of options there are . . .”

“Oliver, I don’t understand--” 

“Felicity, I want us to move in together.” 

Her jaw actually dropped. Felicity thought that only happened in movies. But here she was, with her mouth hanging open, as she gaped at her boyfriend.

“I know you hate having Rob around all the time, and I thought--I want to keep you safe,” Oliver said, stepping towards her. “If we lived together, in a building with good security, you wouldn’t need a bodyguard as much. And we could get more time with each other, since between your job and mine it’s tough to just be together, and--and I want to live with you.” 

_Where_ was this coming from? They had been back in Starling a week and Oliver had seemed fine. A little broody, yes, but no more than he normally was. He hadn’t skipped out on any of his work as Green Arrow, either. They had only spent the night together two times in the last week, because he was out from dusk to dawn patrolling: catching up on what he had missed while he was with her in LA. 

So why was he suddenly so worried about her safety? And asking her to move in together? As much as she cared about Oliver--as much as she suspected that he was the one for her--it felt way too soon for cohabitation talk. 

Even if the idea of waking up to Oliver every day, coming home to him, knowing that they were taking a step forward, together . . . well, it was really, really, _really_ appealing. 

Swallowing, Felicity pushed aside the happy fantasies and made herself focus on reality. “Oliver . . .” 

As soon as she spoke, his shoulders slumped just the barest amount and he let go of her wrist. She could see the shutters going down over his eyes and it was like a punch in the gut. 

“Oliver, please, let’s just talk about this,” she said, blindly reaching out to put the food down on her dining table, before taking his face in her hands.

His jaw felt like iron under her palms, it was clenched so tightly. She gently smoothed her thumbs over his cheeks, feeling his stubble rub against her skin. “Hey, c’mon,” Felicity urged him, trying to make him look at her. “Talk to me. I want to know where this is coming from.” 

Hesitantly, he lifted his eyes to meet hers. As soon as blue connected with blue, the tension flowed out of him and his hands reached for her waist. “I’m sorry.” 

“You only have to be sorry if you don’t explain what’s going on in here,” Felicity said, reaching one hand up to ghost her thumb over his temple. “Because I’m more than a little lost, and I don’t like that.” She mock-pouted, hoping to get a smile, hoping he would open up to her.

It sort of worked: he smiled at her for a split-second, but he still looked sad. So she went up on her toes again and pecked his lips lightly. “It’s not that I don’t like the idea, Oliver.” 

“No?” he asked quietly. 

Felicity shook her head, her ponytail brushing against her neck. “I do like it. The thought of seeing you every day . . . I got spoiled in LA, having you around all the time.” She looked at him, wondering if that was what prompted this sudden decision. If maybe all that time together had made him want to jump into something more with her. And that made her heart flutter in her chest. 

“Me, too,” he said, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “I’ve missed you.” 

“So is that why you asked me to move in with you?” she asked, looking into his eyes. 

Oliver’s lips pressed together, which made her confusion and worry ratchet back up. “Partly,” he admitted, after a long moment. “I just . . .” He stopped talking and pressed his lips together again. 

If Felicity wasn’t already pretty sure of how she felt about Oliver, her reaction to his reluctance to talk would be the sign that she loved him. Because with anyone else, she would want to pull all the details out of them, make them talk to her. But with Oliver . . . she always went slowly and carefully. She always wanted the truth, but she knew that the truth could take time to reveal for him. And sometimes that meant backing off when she just wanted to make him talk. When she wanted to ask him if he thought there was anything he could tell her that would make her leave. 

She couldn’t think of anything that would change her opinion of Oliver. It was hard to imagine what was so bad that it would make her believe she was wrong about who he was. He was a good man, that he was trying, that he kept going even after he failed. He was stubborn and misguided at times, too much of a martyr and more OCD about tidiness than anyone should be . . . but that just made him Oliver. 

The man she loved. 

Slowly, she dropped her hands to his shoulders and rubbed them a little. “How about we eat? The burritos are getting cold and I’m hungry. And we can come back to this discussion later.” 

He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. “No, I--I just . . .” His voice trailed off, and then he set his jaw. “I know it’s not true, but I feel like I’m the only one who can keep you safe. Or maybe I want to be the only one to keep you safe, which is selfish. And a really bad strategy.”

Oh, he was just the most . . . Felicity felt tears prick her eyes at just how amazing Oliver Queen was. Because he was sweet and sappy and loving in ways she could have never imagined, in ways that he hid from the world at large behind a stoic face and a muscled body. 

And it made her feel emotional and sappy and romantic, because all she could think was that the weakest and strongest part of Oliver was his heart. 

“Oliver,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Needing to hold him and be held by him. His arms banded around her waist and Felicity pressed her face against his chest. 

“Thea told me it was too soon to be talking about living together,” Oliver admitted. “She said you’d turn me down, because you’re smarter than me.” 

Felicity huffed out a breath against his chest. “Some sister she is. I thought sisters always thought the best of their brothers and would say I’m the lucky one in this relationship.” 

His hand stroked her hair as she tilted her head back to look up at him. A small smile was on his face and he looked less tense. “I think she got over the hero worship a while ago.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, rubbing her hands over his back slowly. “I think there’s a lot about you that’s worthy of worship.” Felicity paused and wrinkled her nose. “Okay, I’ve made better come-ons. Ones that didn’t start with talking about your sister.”

He out-and-out laughed at that--not the full belly laugh she was hoping for, but definitely a happy, amused laugh. Felicity grinned.

“You could stick with a classic. ‘I bet the burritos will taste just as good reheated’,” Oliver suggested, smiling as he leaned down to kiss her. 

As soon as their lips touched, the humor was replaced with desire. Felicity felt herself melt against him, her hands pressing against his back and wanting to be closer to him. 

And then she let out a gasp as Oliver scooped her up and started carrying her towards her bedroom. 

XXX

It was still early and the sunlight was just starting to peek through her windows. Her back was to the window, which let her look at Oliver’s face without having to squint. Which was good, because Oliver in the sunlight was very nice to look at. 

Over warmed-up burritos late last night, they had talked some more. It had been a good talk, she thought. Very grown-up. The thought of being an adult made her want to giggle sometimes. Because some days, she still felt like that awkward, nerdy, brunette Felicity, who at twelve was smarter than most of the adults in any room. That Felicity would have never dreamed that in ten years, she would be confident and successful and dating. Or blonde, for that matter. 

But she was all those things. And more than that, she was happy. 

Especially after last night, with how they were able to deal with Oliver’s little bombshell. At first, she had been surprised, and a little scared, when he brought up living together. Because it felt so . . . serious. It reminded her that Oliver was older than her. Not just in years, but in life experience, in the number of relationships he had been in--in every way, he was older. 

All the things she had said to Caitlin, only two weeks ago, still applied. There was still so much she didn’t know about him. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for something so serious. But unlike before, she wasn’t freaking out. She wasn’t scared. She felt ready. Because Oliver hadn’t pushed her away after her kidnapping. Because they were able to talk about changing their relationship and agree that it wasn’t time for living together--but they were definitely both interested in that happening in the future. Because it was getting harder and harder to not tell him that she loved him. 

Yet . . . with not knowing who was after her, Felicity was hesitant to tell Oliver how she felt. He had been through so much and was already scared about losing her. Would it be worse if he knew how deeply her feelings ran?

Okay, so maybe she was still a little scared about taking this last step. But perhaps there was a way to tell him without saying the words. 

The shrill ring of her cell phone made her jump and Oliver jerked awake, his eyes blinking at her. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, kissing him quickly before rolling over to grab her phone. To her surprise, it was her bodyguard. “Rob?” she answered.

“Ms. Stark, I’m sorry to call so early,” he said, for once sounding something other than cheerful. “But I’m afraid there’s a problem with your car.” 

“My car?” she asked, rubbing a hand over her face as she sat up in bed. 

Oliver frowned at her a little. “What’s wrong with your car?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

“It’s been vandalized, ma’am. It’s completely undriveable.” 

“What?” she said in surprise, looking at Oliver. “Someone vandalized my car?” 

“Yes, ma’am. I’m on my way to the garage to look it over and see if there’s any sign that it might be connected with--with the past events involving you,” Rob said tactfully. “But I’m not sure how long that will take.” 

This was the last thing she wanted to think about, but there wasn’t any choice about it. “I can’t work from home today--I need to be in the office,” Felicity said with a sigh. 

“I can drive you to work,” Oliver said quietly, resting his hand on her knee.

“Hold on, Rob,” Felicity said quickly, before moving the mouthpiece of her phone away. “You can?” 

Oliver nodded, a small smile quirking his lips. “Sure.” 

Smiling back at him, Felicity pecked his cheek. “Rob? Oliver will take me to work. You stay with my car and do your investigation, talk to the SCPD, and then meet me at work.” 

“Ms. Stark, I don’t think that’s a good idea--” Rob began to say, but Felicity cut him off.

“Rob, if I’m not safe at my family’s company, I might as well find a castle with a really tall tower. I’ll be fine with the SI security department, especially now that you and Mr. Diggle took the time to give everyone that extra training.” 

“All right, ma’am,” Rob said slowly. “I’ll keep you posted.” 

Thanking him, Felicity hung up the phone and looked at Oliver. “Sorry for waking you up.” 

He shook his head and leaned up to kiss her lightly. “It’s okay.” 

Sighing against his lips, Felicity rested her forehead against his. He gave her a small, sleepy smile, and it reminded her of the idea she had come up with, just before her phone rang. 

“Oliver?” she asked, stroking his cheek. “I have something I want to give you.” 

His eyebrows went up and his smile became a grin. “Really? Do we have time . . .” 

Something about her expression must have told him she wasn’t talking about sex, because he let his voice trail off. 

“No, it’s not that,” she said with a smile that felt awkward. “Just--just stay right here, okay?” 

Felicity pushed back the covers and got out of bed, feeling Oliver’s curious eyes following her as she went to her desk and crawled underneath it. 

“Felicity, what are you doing?” 

“Opening my safe,” she said loudly, knowing her voice would be muffled. 

“Your safe?” Oliver asked in disbelief. 

After putting in the combination, Felicity pulled out the drawer of the small safe that was bolted underneath her desk and took out the sole item inside the drawer. She wiggled out from under the desk, blew her hair out of her face, and walked back to the bed. “Yeah, my safe,” she said quietly, her eyes locked on his. “You don’t think I’d just let my baby lay around on my desk at SI, do you?” 

She held up the plastic-encased computer chip that she had removed from the safe and Oliver pushed himself up to a sitting position. 

“Is that . . .?” 

“The prototype for my processor,” Felicity said. “My baby. I normally have it with me all the time. At night it goes into the safe.” She paused, biting her lower lip for a moment, before she held it out to Oliver. “I want you to have it.” 

His eyes went wide. “What?” he croaked. “Felicity, why--”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Felicity said. “What happened in LA, it convinced me that I need to take extra precautions. I should have done this months ago, but back then, I would have given this to my dad. But now . . . I want to give this to you,” she said, still holding the chip out to Oliver. 

“You should give it to your dad,” Oliver said, his voice hesitant and unsure. 

Felicity smiled at him softly. “I trust you, Oliver. I know you’ll keep it safe. Because you know how important it is to me. It . . . it makes sense that the most important thing in my life is guarded by the most important person in my life.” 

One of the things she had noticed about Oliver was his ability to become motionless. It usually happened when she surprised him in some way. But she had never seen him go so still. He just . . . stopped. All he did was stare at her, his eyes wide and his lips parted. She almost thought he stopped breathing. 

And then he crushed her against his chest and kissed her slowly and deeply and tenderly, and Felicity didn’t want to go to work at all. She wanted to stay right here with Oliver. 

But when they finally came up for air, she did her best to not show that particular desire. Instead, she ran a hand lightly over his hair. “So that’s a yes?” 

He nodded, smiling at her. “It’s a yes.” He carefully took the prototype from her, looking at it closely. “It’s so small.” 

“Small but powerful--just like me,” Felicity joked as she regretfully untangled herself from Oliver. “I have to get ready for work.” 

“You might want to wear pants today,” Oliver said. 

“Why?” Felicity asked, glancing at him as she headed towards her closet. 

The smirk on his face made her pause, and then she groaned. “You took your deathtrap on two wheels last night.” 

“It’s usually called a motorcycle,” Oliver teased her. 

“Only because I have to go to work today and would rather hold on to you than look at a cab driver,” Felicity said, pointing her finger at him. His chuckles followed her into her closet.

XXX

“Never again,” Felicity vowed as she climbed off Oliver’s motorcycle. “Even with getting to feel you up the whole way, it’s not worth it.” She yanked the helmet off and ran a hand over her hair before handing the helmet back to him. Her legs felt unsteady and she knew she had helmet hair and she didn’t understand why he liked this so much. 

Not that she was saying the sight of Oliver, straddling his motorcycle, in jeans and a leather jacket and smiling at her, wasn’t appealing. And he never had helmet hair. But looking at him was very different from clinging to him for fear of her life. 

“I think you actually liked it,” Oliver said, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb against her palm. 

Felicity pursed her lips. The thing was, she maybe did? A little? But she was pretty sure that ninety percent of that was because of Oliver. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you in?” Oliver asked, growing serious. 

“I have to go ten steps to the front door,” Felicity said, gesturing behind her. “Since you refused to pull around to the back entrance.”

Oliver’s jaw tensed just a little, but his voice was light as he spoke. “The security desk is at the front entrance.” 

If she didn’t know where his overprotectiveness was coming from, Felicity would have argued with him. Instead, she squeezed his hand. “I’m going to be running around the building a lot today, so I’ll probably be out of touch. But I’ll see you later?” 

“Before I go out, yeah,” Oliver said, tugging on her hand and lifting up his face to kiss her. 

With superhero strength, she gave him the lightest of pecks and stepped back. 

“Hey, that wasn’t much of a goodbye kiss,” he said, his lips twisted in something dangerously close to a pout. 

She laughed. “It’s bad enough for the vice-president to be dropped off by her motorcycle-riding boyfriend--she can’t be caught making out with him in front of her building.” 

“You’re giving me ideas for next time,” he joked as she headed towards the front doors. But there was enough of his desire underneath his amusement that her knees felt weak for a moment, and she just had to look back at him and smile as she stepped inside.

The minute she walked through the doors, Felicity made herself shift into work mode. Her smile became professional, she said good morning to the staff members in the lobby, and she strode towards the elevators, her heels clicking against the polished floors. 

Once she was in her office, she slipped off her jacket and put her purse down, listening as Gerry went over her schedule for the day. 

“--and Mr. Merlyn called this morning asking if you could squeeze him in. He should be here any minute, if that’s all right, Ms. Stark.” 

Holding back a sigh, Felicity nodded. “That’s fine, Gerry. I guess my dig about upgrading Merlyn Global’s Internet security actually is going to pay off. Oh, and if Rob calls, please put him through to my extension and hold all my other calls.” 

“Yes, Ms. Stark. Oh, Mr. Merlyn’s here now, I’ll show him in,” Gerry said, moving with efficiency towards the outer office. 

Felicity adjusted her glasses and checked her hair again before moving to stand in front of her desk. To her surprise, Mr. Merlyn entered her office trailed by four men--and none of them looked like members of Merlyn Global’s IT department. Unless IT workers now came with muscles and earpieces like bodyguards did . . . 

Frowning, Felicity glanced at Gerry, whose back was to her. There was no way she could signal him, and her phone was sitting on her desk behind her.

_You’re being ridiculous, Felicity_ , she told herself before pasting a small smile on her face. “Mr. Merlyn, it’s a pleasure to see you.” She held her hand out to him. 

“Believe me, the pleasure is all mine, Miss Stark,” he said, taking her hand in both of his and holding on tightly. “Since the time has finally come to make you my offer directly, instead of sending other people.” 

As unobtrusively as possible, she tugged at her hand, trying to get free of him. “I thought you were here to discuss my offer to use SI network upgrades at Merlyn Global,” she said, trying to appear like she wasn’t freaking out. 

Malcolm’s face lit up with an avuncular smile. “So intelligent. It’s a shame that at the end of all this, I’ll have to kill you.” 

“What?” Felicity said, instinctively pulling as hard as she could on her hand, working to get as far away from him as she could. But then two of his men stepped forward, grabbing her arms, and there was a sting in her neck as a cold sensation went through her veins. 

A sensation she recognized from her last kidnapping. Her legs sagged out from under her, only the firm grip the goons had on her keeping Felicity from faceplanting. She stared up at Malcolm, and in a slurred voice, she asked, “It’s been you . . .?” 

“Yes, my dear,” he said, finally releasing her hand only to stroke her hair back, like a father would to his daughter--like _her_ father did to her. “If you come quietly, we won’t have to kill your chubby little assistant.” Merlyn’s face smoothed out, looking like stone. “Or send someone after Oliver.”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head lazily. This dose was much stronger than the other one; she was barely holding on. In a daze, her eyes drifting shut, she saw one of Merlyn’s men drug Gerry as they dragged her out of her office. 

And as Felicity’s world went dark, her last thought was of Oliver.

End, Chapter 8


	10. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [rubs hands together] I am really proud of this chapter. I hope you all enjoy what happens, because I think there’s some moments in here that can compare to what we’ve seen on _Arrow_. At least, I hope so! Tell me if you agree.

Oh-so-slowly, Felicity drifted back to consciousness. Blinking her eyes, she tried to move, only to gasp when she realized she couldn’t--and that her gasp was strangely muffled. 

The fog in her mind began to lift as she took in the ropes that bound her to a desk chair and she prodded the gag, tied tightly over her mouth, with her tongue. Then she lifted her head and looked around. It was cold and dimly-lit, wherever she was. And echoing, like it was a big room without any furniture . . . 

_A warehouse_ , she thought, the word finally coming to her. 

Why was she in a warehouse? She never went to warehouses, except for that one party, the summer after her freshman year at MIT, the one with the music and the tattooed guy who wanted to give her some X . . .

Felicity shook her head and winced. “Ow,” she said, even though the gag made the word indistinct. After all those times she thought people wanted to gag her in order to stop her babbling, someone finally did it. She wondered who.

And _why_ couldn’t she focus?

Taking in a deep breath through her nose, Felicity gave her head a good shake, nice and hard. Stars appeared behind her eyes and her head throbbed, but the pain chased away the fogginess. It let her think.

She was gagged and tied to a chair, in some kind of warehouse. She was hungry and thirsty, but thankfully there was no sign she needed a bathroom. Her glasses were missing. She was Felicity Stark, and the last thing she remembered--

Gerry! Malcolm Merlyn had--Oliver, her processor, oh, God--Malcolm Merlyn was going to kill her. 

Especially when he found out she didn’t have her processor and she wouldn’t tell him where it was. And she wouldn’t tell him who was keeping it safe.

Her breath was coming fast, too fast. But she couldn’t seem to get enough air--she felt dizzy and lightheaded--

_That’s because you’re hyperventilating!_ shrieked a voice in her head that sounded like Caitlin. _Breathe slowly._

It took her a moment or two, but she managed to slow down her breathing. Felicity’s panic eased enough that she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out. 

Because she couldn’t pass out and she couldn’t panic. She had to figure out what she was going to do. Or, more precisely, how. Because there was no way she would let Malcolm Merlyn touch her processor. Whatever he wanted it for, it couldn’t be good. And she was pretty sure her opinion wasn’t influenced by the knee-jerk shudder she always felt whenever she encountered Malcolm. The whole multiple kidnappings and threats were enough to make her not trust him. And he was probably responsible for the hacking attempts on SI!

When he found out she wouldn't--and couldn’t--give her the prototype, Malcolm would get mad. He . . . 

Felicity swallowed, her throat dry. He would torture her.

Maybe that wasn’t what he would do. Maybe she had seen too many movies. Perhaps he’d just kill her. But somehow, she knew Malcolm would do anything to get her processor. After all, he had already done plenty of things to try and get her tech. And if he was going to kill her once he got it, what did it matter what he did before that?

Tears filled her eyes and Felicity bowed her head. She couldn't do this. She wasn’t a hero. She had never wanted her father’s life, or Natasha’s--she had never wanted to be like the Avengers. She wasn’t cut out for it.

All she wanted was to use computers to improve people’s lives. And she wanted to live her life--to be successful, to spend more time with the people she loved, to grow old with someone and be happy. 

Felicity Stark was not ready to be tortured to death in order to stop the as-yet-unknown plans of a madman. 

_I believe in you._

Oliver’s voice was so clear and distinct that Felicity’s head jerked up, looking around wildly. Was he here?

But the warehouse was empty. She was all alone.

The tears started again, Felicity giving in to them wholly. She cried like a little girl would, without restraint, and she wished that was what she was. A little girl who knew that her daddy would keep all the monsters away. 

Her father would be crushed by her death. Both her parents would, Felicity knew. Everyone thought Pepper was an ice queen, but Felicity knew her mother’s grief would be deep and dark and endless. So would her father’s, but Tony would probably cause a lot of explosions, too, and get drunk--oh, no, he’d really go off the wagon because of her. She knew there had been talk of rehab before her parents got together, that her father had barely managed to not get lost in the easy relief of alcohol. But if he lost his only daughter, how would her dad cope? How would her mom?

How would Oliver?

The tears came with a vengeance as Felicity thought of leaving Oliver. Of all his progress being wiped out, of his kindness and goodness being burned away in his despair. And Felicity hated that she was going to die without telling Oliver that she loved him. That their last conversation was so jokey, about not wanting to ride his _stupid_ motorcycle again . . .

She lost track of time as she cried, as she thought about everything she was going to lose, as she thought about all the chances she was missing. All the people that would hurt because she wouldn’t be there. Maybe it was self-centered of her to worry that they couldn’t go on without her, but Felicity just knew, in her bones, that her parents and Oliver and Caitlin and all her other friends would have trouble with going on after she was gone.

_So what are you going to do about it?_

The phrase that echoed in her mind had the calmness of her mother, the directness of Caitlin, the cocky insistence of her father, and the belief of Oliver. It was like the people that mattered most to her were trying to send her a message.

_But I can’t do **anything** ,_ Felicity thought bitterly. _I’m tied up, I can’t talk, there’s no tech around . . . I can’t do anything to save myself._

And as soon as that thought was in her head, Felicity felt angry. No, she was _furious_. Malcolm Merlyn might be ready to torture her--his plans might be to kill her--but that didn’t mean she should just let it happen. He wasn’t going to get her processor. And Felicity was damned if he would get the satisfaction of making her beg or plead for anything.

No. She was Felicity Stark. She wasn’t very strong, but she was strong enough to make this hard for Malcolm Merlyn.

At least that way, she could die honestly.

XXX

The light in the warehouse had dimmed and the sky, visible through the small windows at the very top of the building, had gone a pale blue-gray by the time that Malcolm Merlyn arrived.

As the hours passed, Felicity had managed to hold on to her anger, using it as a way to ignore her physical discomfort. Her hunger and thirst were sharp and stabbing, contrasting with the utter numbness of her hands and feet. And so was her ass--sitting for hours without being able to shift her position was more painful than she had realized.

A loud clang, then a creak and a bang, drew Felicity out of her thoughts. She squinted, wishing she had her glasses, as she tried to see what was happening in the half-light.

The soft thud of what sounded like boots echoed through the warehouse and Felicity drew herself up in her chair. Her gag tightened, someone’s hands working on it, and then the fabric loosened and fell away from her mouth. 

And then Malcolm Merlyn stepped out from behind her, dressed in some kind of all-black costume with studded straps and a hood, and held a bottle of water to her lips. “You must be thirsty.” 

Her mouth felt like a desert and her lips were chapped, but the last thing she wanted was to take anything from him. But she didn’t have much of a choice, did she? She needed water. So Felicity slowly opened her mouth and took a few sips of the water, each drop feeling colder and wetter and better than anything she had ever drunk before. 

Too soon, Merlyn drew the bottle away and capped it, tossing it aside. Felicity did her best to keep her eyes on him and not follow the arc of the bottle flying through the air. Instead, she licked her lips and tried to figure out what question she wanted to ask first. 

“My assistant? Everyone at SI? They weren’t harmed?” 

Merlyn smiled at her. A smile that she thought was supposed to be kind, proud. But all she saw when she looked at him was arrogance, confidence, madness.

“Your assistant was given a weaker dose of the drug you received, since he doesn’t have your strength, your remarkable constitution,” he said, his hands clasped behind him. “So he is awake, probably, telling the police the little he knows. Not nearly enough for them to find you.” 

She very nearly scoffed at what she supposed he thought was a compliment to her, but the last thing she wanted to do was show Malcolm Merlyn her insecurities. So she lifted her chin and focused on Merlyn. “What do you want with me?”

“And here I thought you were widely considered a genius,” Merlyn tutted. 

“I wouldn’t want to assume anything when it comes to you. I might be a genius, but I can’t predict how a man like you thinks,” Felicity said, her words coming hard and fast. 

“A man like me?” Merlyn asked, lifting an eyebrow. “And what kind of man do you think I am? You don’t even know what I’m planning.” 

There was a time and place to play coy and cagey. This wasn’t it. Not anymore. And maybe she was just too angry to engage in games of cat-and-mouse. Not when she was, unfortunately, the mouse. “Whatever it is, you’re not going to use my processor for it,” Felicity said, trying to keep herself under control. 

“Ah, but wait until you hear my plans, Miss Stark--or may I call you Felicity? Such a lovely name. Do you know what your name means?” 

Did he have a baby names book hiding underneath his robes-type thing? Felicity felt her anger snap and flare inside her like a campfire. She wanted to spit in Malcolm Merlyn’s face, break free of her bindings, and get the hell out of here. But she couldn’t do any of those things. 

Well, she _could_ spit in Merlyn’s face, but it seemed like a waste of her precious spit. 

It was one thing for her father to piss off his adversaries; he was wrapped in a metal suit when he did his ‘annoy them until they make a mistake’ routine. She didn’t have that--she needed her anger to stay focused, but she couldn’t let it overwhelm her. 

She always beat Bruce at trivia and Steve at chess. She could outthink Malcolm Merlyn. 

“I do know,” Felicity said. “A lot of guys at MIT thought telling me my name meant ‘happiness’ was a great pick-up line.” 

Merlyn chuckled--actually _chuckled_ \--and shook his head. “It sounds like a line my son would have used.”

“Let’s not get off-topic,” Felicity said, feeling her heart squeeze at the mention of Tommy. She had discovered that he was a good guy: finding out his father was involved in something evil would hurt him a lot. 

“Of course--you’re curious about what I’m going to do,” Merlyn said, his arrogance dripping off his words. “It’s an impressive plan. One I think you’ll admire once you hear more about it. Now that you’ve lived in Starling City for several months, you must have realized that the Glades is the source of all the city’s problems.” 

Felicity pressed her lips together, holding back her immediate disagreement. Because really, the true problem for Starling City was the inequality that drove people to crime, the gulf between how the rich and the poor were treated, and the lack of opportunities for those that needed encouragement and support the most. But she doubted that was what Merlyn thought, considering his history of anti-Glades remarks. 

“My wife was murdered by some punk, after giving millions of dollars and hundreds of hours trying to help the people of the Glades,” Malcolm said, walking back and forth in front of her. “She was shot and left to die in a dirty alley, near the Pratt Street subway stop, her blood running all over the sidewalk.” 

He turned and leaned in towards Felicity, his face inches from hers. “And not one person stopped at the sound of a gunshot. Not one person stopped to help her. Not one person cared that a woman died as they walked past that alley.” 

It was sad. A horrible thing to happen to anyone. But if Merlyn was using the death of his wife to justify whatever he was going to do, whatever he needed her processor for, then he definitely was a sociopath. 

Before she was able to express that thought in words--which was probably a good thing, since she didn’t think that would have worked out for her--Merlyn straightened up and went back to pacing. “I realized that there was only one way to save the Glades. Only one way to make my wife’s death be more than a senseless act of violence. It’s taken me nearly twenty years, but as soon as I have your processor, I will be able to save the Glades.” 

“Save it how?” Felicity asked, wanting specifics and details. Not the vague pronouncements of a madman. 

Merlyn let her question hang in the air. As he waited to answer her, Felicity felt a tendril of fear go down her spine. Maybe she didn’t want to know . . . 

But then he turned to face her, a maniacal smile on his face. “That’s where your processor fits in. Unidac Industries was a fine company, but they just didn’t have the resources that Stark Industries does. Or a genius like you on staff, either.”

Unidac Industries? Felicity’s forehead wrinkled as she tried to remember if she had ever heard of that company. 

“They did have one good idea, though,” Merlyn continued, acting as if he didn’t even register Felicity’s confusion. “A seismic device. One that could be placed upon unstable ground, on fault lines, and create an earthquake. It was designed as a way to relieve pressure--a small quake to prevent a big one, to minimize property damage and loss of life. But with your processor . . .” 

Felicity felt her mouth drop open. With her ultra-efficient processor, this--this earthquake machine would be able to create a cataclysmic event. “You’re going to wipe out the Glades,” she whispered, staring at Merlyn. 

“Ingenious, isn’t it?” Merlyn said with a proud smile. “My little Undertaking has been years in the making, but until you came along, I will admit, I despaired if I was on the right path. If I would have to start over. We couldn’t get the results we wanted with only one machine, but there wasn’t time to craft another one after Unidac went belly-up.” 

He sighed heavily. “Yes, there were dark days. Especially when, a year ago, I learned that Oliver Queen survived the bomb I placed on his family’s yacht. But while he knows something of my plans, thanks to his little Robin Hood act, he doesn’t know that it’s me running things.” Merlyn paused, his head tilted to one side. “I wonder how he will feel. Losing both the woman and the city he loves.”

Swallowing, Felicity tried to make herself as tall as she could in her chair, even if it made the pins and needles in her bottom spark painfully to life. “That’s not going to happen. Because Oliver will stop you. And he won’t be alone.” 

“You’ve read too many fairy tales, Felicity.” Up until now, there had been warmth in Merlyn’s voice. But it was all gone now. He was as cold and hard as a marble pillar. “The forces of good usually lose. And love isn’t enough to overcome any obstacle.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Felicity said, hearing her voice crack and wishing it hadn’t. She didn’t want to give Merlyn any sign of how scared she was. “Maybe I have read too many fairy tales. But I believe in Oliver. And I know that without my processor, there’s no way your Undertaking is going to happen.”

“You talk as if I’m not going to get your processor, but I will,” Merlyn said coldly. “Because I have Felicity Stark. I think that Tony and Pepper Stark would hand over that prototype in a heartbeat, knowing that the life of their only daughter hangs in the balance.” 

Merlyn began walking away, in the direction he had entered from. His steps paused when he was only halfway there, Felicity thought. Because like any villain, he had an exit line to deliver. 

“Or maybe the president and CEO of Stark Industries will be more worried about losing such an important piece of technology, or they don’t want to negotiate with someone they brand a terrorist, even if it means potentially losing a valuable employee--a vice-president. I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?” 

Somehow, she managed to hold back her gasp of worry and heartbreak and fear until Merlyn had left her alone. Because she didn’t know what was going to happen. But she was scared.

XXX

Left alone, Felicity’s mind spiraled into a sequence of dark, unhappy thoughts. What were her parents thinking right now? Did they even know she had been kidnapped? What about Oliver? He sometimes dropped by her office and brought her lunch, because he thought she had awful eating habits and was trying to help her eat healthier. She agreed, although Felicity thought there were ways of eating healthy that didn’t involve kale. What if he walked in and found out she was gone? How would he react?

The warehouse grew darker and darker, colder and colder. Felicity shivered a little in her chair, feeling grateful that she was wearing pants. If--no, when--when she saw Oliver, she would have to thank him for having her wear pants today. 

A hum filled the warehouse, just before several overhead lights came on, making Felicity squint. Then came the clang that told her the door was being opened and Felicity took a deep breath.

“So, Miss Stark, an hour to think . . .” Merlyn said as he came into view. 

“If you think I’ve changed my mind, you’re crazy. Well, crazier. Because I haven’t,” Felicity said, glaring at him. “There is no way I will give you my processor. And neither will my parents. Not because they don’t love me, but because they have no reason to trust you.” 

“Hmmm,” Merlyn said, his eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I just need to explain this better. If you don’t give me your processor, if you refuse to tell me where it is, then I will find other ways. Alternative forms of persuasion, since warning you isn’t working.” 

Great, now he was ruining _Star Wars_ for her, because Merlyn was totally parroting what Governor Tarkin said to Princess Leia. And her father’s nickname for her to the contrary, she was not exactly ‘heroine for a generation’ material. 

But she had to stand her ground, so it looked like it was time to bring out her inner Leia. 

“It doesn’t matter what you do. I have nothing to say to you,” Felicity said slowly, giving her words weight. “I have nothing to give you.” 

“I thought it might come to this,” Merlyn said, sounding annoyed. He lifted a hand and made a ‘come here’ gesture. Felicity turned her head, trying to see what was going on, but there was no way for her to be able to see the door that was behind the chair she was tied to. 

Merlyn stood before her, his face blank. Felicity tried to match his expression, tried not to look like her mind was racing, imagining what might be about to happen. Imagining the torture implements he was probably having brought in right now. 

And then her blood ran cold as she realized what Merlyn had done.

“Hey, anonymous goon number one, stop trying to feel up my wife.” 

Throwing her whole body against the chair, Felicity managed to turn it enough so she could see the door. So she could watch as her parents were marched into the warehouse, the accurately-named goon holding her mother in a rather-too-familiar way while two other henchmen gripped her father’s arms. 

“Mom? Dad?” she croaked, staring at them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Stark, so glad you could join us,” Merlyn said, moving to the side as her parents were brought before her. Their hands were zip-tied in front of them; her mother looked calm unless you saw the worried, nervous expression in her eyes. Her father, on the other hand, looked pissed. 

Swallowing, Felicity tried to stay calm--but she couldn’t. What were they thinking? “What are you doing here?” she asked, looking back and forth between them. “This--this is crazy!”

“Crazy? I don’t think we’re the ones you should be calling crazy,” Tony said, jerking his head towards Merlyn.

“I already called him crazy,” Felicity blurted out. 

“Oh, good, glad we’re all in agreement,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. 

Frowning, Felicity shook her head, then closed her eyes at another wave of pain. Her hunger and thirst were making her head ache even more.

“Felicity?” Pepper said, stepping forward and then being jerked back by the man who was still holding her. “Are you hurt?” 

“You said she was uninjured!” Tony yelled at Merlyn. “This doesn’t look ‘uninjured’ to me!” 

The raised voices were making her head pound, but Felicity did her best to ignore the pain. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, managing to get her parents’ attention.

Her father gave her a long look, then nodded before glaring at Merlyn. 

“Satisfied?” Merlyn asked with a raised eyebrow. When Tony didn’t say or do anything, Merlyn took that as consent and moved to stand beside Felicity. 

“Now, Miss Stark, since you’re not interested in working with me . . . I’m afraid I’ll have to see what will compel you to change your mind.” He waved a hand at her parents. 

Felicity blinked. He wasn’t going to torture her? 

“What . . . what do you mean?” she asked slowly, feeling the fear increase inside her. 

“Between you and your parents, one of you must have the processor. So we’re going to see who has it,” Merlyn said, a thin edge of glee infusing his voice. “After all, your parents said they were willing to do anything to keep you safe. Very sweet. Yet your father is Iron Man.” 

Licking her lips, Felicity glanced at her parents. Pepper’s face was composed, her lips pressed together. Tony’s eyes were burning in his face, full of anger and determination like always. 

It was a question she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask, but . . . “What are you going to do?”

Merlyn showed his teeth in a grimace of a smile. “Well, you’re a very close-knit family. You’d do anything to spare your parents pain, wouldn’t you?” 

Oh, God. Felicity felt her heart drop. Was he saying he would make her watch while her parents were tortured, until she gave up the location of her processor? Her breaths were coming faster now and she was on the verge of a freak out. 

“Easy, Felicity,” Pepper said, giving her a tight smile. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How? How is it going to be okay, Mom?!?” Felicity asked, hearing the panic in her voice. “Because I’m having trouble seeing it!” 

Her parents didn’t know that she didn’t have the processor anymore. That she had given it to Oliver. They had walked into this situation--she still didn’t know why or how--and now she was going to have to watch while her mother, or her father, or both, were hurt in order to make her talk. But she couldn’t talk, she couldn’t tell Malcolm where the prototype was. But she couldn’t bear to see her parents suffer because of her . . . 

“It’s going to be okay because we say it will be,” Pepper said, her voice firm but with a tremor in her lips. 

“That’s not very reassuring, Mom,” Felicity said, unable to help the retort.

Pepper sighed and looked at Tony. “She is so your daughter in these moments,” she muttered. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Pepp,” her father said cheerfully before turning to Felicity. “It’s going to be okay because there’s no need to break out the torture. Check the right front pocket of my pants.” 

Felicity stared at her father. What? 

Merlyn nodded to one of the men holding her father, who patted down Tony and then slid his hand into the pocket of the dark trousers her father wore. 

“Easy there, buddy. Watch the family jewels,” Tony said, making Felicity grimace. The last thing they needed was her father being cute.

The associate drew out a small plastic container, a bit larger than a postage stamp, and held it up for Merlyn’s inspection.

It was impossible to hold back her gasp. How did her father get the prototype? Did they talk to Oliver before they came here? Or . . . 

She wanted to discount the idea as soon as it appeared in her mind. Because her parents trusted her. Believed in her. Where had her father gotten another processor? There was only one prototype. Had they gone behind her back and made another one? All her schematics were on her personal server--her father wouldn’t hack it to make his own copy of her processor, would he? 

“Tell me you didn’t,” Felicity said, staring at her father. “Tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.” 

“Are you asking if I went behind your back and made a version of your processor for my own use?” Tony asked, his voice full of bravado. “Do you really think I’d do that to you? My only daughter?’ 

“Yes! Because how else would you have my processor?” Felicity yelped, tugging at her bonds. “Unless you made one!”

Tony let his head fall back with a groan. “Princess, only having one prototype was short-sighted. After your first kidnapping--and we’ve got you to thank for that, right, Merlyn? Yeah, real good job there, not being able to pull off kidnapping a hundred and ten pound blonde who wears the most impractical shoes around--I planned for this by pulling your designs from your server and whipping that up.” He nodded his head to the processor that was now in Merlyn’s hand.

“I can’t believe you did this!” Felicity said, feeling everything from the day come out as she yelled at her father. “Mom, how could you let him do this?”

“I told you she would be upset,” Pepper said, looking at Tony. “I told you we should tell her.”

“And I was going to! But then she brought the himbo home with her--”

Felicity gasped. “Are you--are you calling Oliver-- _Oliver Queen_ \--a _himbo_?!?” 

“Like the shoe doesn’t fit!” Tony argued. “The guy runs a nightclub and dropped out of four colleges! That’s the guy you love, Felicity? You are nearly as smart as me and you fell for the first pretty face that smiled at you!”

“You don’t know anything about him,” Felicity said, glaring at her father. “He’s so much more.” 

Underneath her anger, Felicity felt extreme confusion. She wasn’t even sure why she was fighting with Tony right now, and she sensed that Tony was trying to give the impression that her parents didn’t know about Oliver’s secret identity. Maybe it was part of some plan? She wasn’t sure. 

“You just don’t like him because he’s too much like you,” Pepper said, her words immediately drawing her husband’s attention.

“You’re comparing me--me, Tony Stark, with the IQ and the seventy-eight separate patents and the building named after me at MIT, which, by the way, they don’t do that just because you give a ton of money to the school--you’re comparing _me_ to that--that male beauty queen our daughter is in lust with?”

“I love him!” 

“Enough!”

In a strange kind of unison, Felicity’s earnest declaration and Malcolm’s annoyed bark rang out at the same time. 

“Enough,” Merlyn repeated, stepping forward. “This nonsense has delayed my plans too long already. I will take this,” he said, holding the processor up, “and have it tested before installing it in the device. And then I will deal with all of you Starks--something I am looking forward to even more now.” 

With that, Merlyn stalked away, his boots clomping loudly against the cement floors. The henchmen let go of her parents and followed him, leaving them alone. 

Felicity didn’t hear the door clang and tried to see what was going on. So did her father, who looked up towards the ceiling and muttered something, too quietly for Felicity to hear. 

“One of the men is standing guard,” Pepper said, barely moving her lips.

Nodding, Felicity took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. “I can’t believe you made your own version of my processor,” she whispered. 

Her father snorted softly. “No, I didn’t.” 

“What?!?” 

“Shhhh,” Pepper said, her eyes cutting towards the guard. 

“It’s a fake,” Tony said. “C’mon, I’d never steal your work like that. Not without telling you. Although I was going to talk to you about it when you came to LA, but then you brought Oliver along and you were so wrapped up in him--oh, and princess? Don’t think we didn’t know he was sneaking into your room every night.” 

Pepper let out a soft huff of annoyance. “Is that really what we should be talking about right now?” 

She agreed with her mother, because finding out her parents had brought a fake processor made her very worried about how Merlyn would react when he learned the truth. 

“Quiet!” the guard called out, his voice tinged with a Middle Eastern accent. 

Pressing her lips together, Felicity looked at her parents. Pepper smiled, clearly attempting to reassure Felicity, while Tony gave her a wink. 

But Felicity didn’t feel reassured.

XXX

Even though the door hadn’t been closed, there was a loud clang and the sound of pounding footsteps some time later. Her parents, who had sunk down to sit on the concrete floor, scrambled awkwardly to their feet--well, her father scrambled; her mother rose like a soap bubble. 

“Your attempt at tricking me has failed, Mr. Stark,” Merlyn jeered as he approached her father. “Do you think I would believe you would come in here, with your daughter’s life on the line, and succeed with such a flimsy plan? Or maybe the processor is more important to you.” 

“Given how you treat your son, not surprised you think I’d be willing to sacrifice Felicity. But that’s not happening,” Tony said, standing casually, like his hands weren’t tied together and he was without his armor and he was facing off against a madman with his defenseless wife and daughter there.

Felicity didn’t know how her father did it, but she wished she had that quality, too.

Merlyn glared and got in her father’s face, using the extra three inches he had on Tony in an attempt to intimidate. “Will you be so glib, Mr. Stark, when your daughter is begging you to let me put her out of her misery?” 

“No!” Pepper shouted, lifting her hands to pound on Merlyn’s chest, but Merlyn stepped back as two henchmen grabbed her mother. 

Looking around wildly, Felicity realized that there were at least twelve men in the warehouse now, all dressed similarly to Merlyn, all standing at attention. Except for the four men who were now holding on to her parents, as Malcolm Merlyn turned to face her. 

“If only your father hadn’t tried to trick me,” Merlyn said, advancing towards her with slow, measured steps. “I wouldn’t have to do this.” 

“You bastard, if you touch a hair on her head--” Her father’s voice was choked with anger, but Felicity could hear the fear in his voice. 

“Please don’t do this,” Pepper begged softly. 

Her parents’ words had no effect on Merlyn. He kept advancing towards Felicity, who gripped the arms of the chair, then winced at the pain of the blood moving in her hands. 

“I regret this, Felicity,” Merlyn said, drawing a large dagger from a sheath that hung on the right side of his waist. “I had planned for your death to be simple. Caught in the destruction of the seismic machine, a tragic case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Another death out of so many from the earthquake that will level the Glades.” 

“We’ll give you whatever you want, Merlyn--” 

“No, Dad,” Felicity said, interrupting Tony. “No,” she repeated, looking up at Merlyn. “We’re not giving you anything. So do your worst. My parents don’t know where the processor is and there’s no way you’re going to get it. Not in time for this flawed Undertaking of yours, not ever.” 

Merlyn slowly drew the blade along her jaw, applying pressure--not enough to break the skin, but definitely enough to scare the living daylights out of her. “You are very brave, Felicity, but I don’t think you’re brave enough. Soon, you will be talking. If only to save your parents the pain.” 

With deliberate movements, Merlyn lifted the dagger, pausing with it raised in the air over her. Felicity didn’t know what to do. Should she close her eyes? Set her jaw? Try to stay relaxed? 

But she didn’t have time to decide and pick an option. Because with a soft whoosh, an arrow suddenly appeared in Merlyn’s shoulder, making him bend over and drop the knife to the floor with a clatter. 

Felicity looked around, the hope rising in her--and the fear. Because could Oliver take out all these men and Merlyn on his own? 

Then he dropped from the rafters in front of her, in his green leather, with his hood up, and gave her a quick smile. And Felicity couldn’t help smiling back, because . . . of course he was going to win. 

He was the Green Arrow.

End, Chapter 9


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without mersayseh, my tenses would be mixed and my thoughts would be tangled. She’s the best beta around, you guys.
> 
> Have a look at how the plan to rescue Felicity came together with this chapter from Oliver’s POV.

_Ten hours earlier . . ._

All morning, Oliver had felt a nagging sense that he had forgotten something. Or that there was something he needed to take care of. At first he thought it was something to do with Verdant, but when he drove over there after dropping off Felicity, he found that everything was under control. Tommy was honestly so much better at managing the club than Oliver had imagined he would be. His best friend had grown up a lot in the years that Oliver had been gone, and it was good to see. 

It was pretty crazy, Oliver thought with a small smile as he took the stairs down to the Foundry. He and Tommy had always done everything together. But now, instead of partying all night and hooking up with random women, they both had jobs and girlfriends. 

His smile faded, though, as that same feeling kept bugging him while he and Digg sparred. “You okay?” Digg asked when they paused, putting down their escrima sticks. “You’re fidgety.” 

“I’m fine . . . I just have a funny feeling,” Oliver admitted, walking away and lifting up his bow. 

Digg nodded and picked up a few tennis balls, smoothly rolling them around in one hand. “That itch on the back of your neck. I got it a few times in Afghanistan.”

“How did it work out?” he asked as he strapped on his quiver. 

“Most of the time, okay. Sometimes . . . bad,” Digg said, his voice even. But Oliver sensed the unsettled emotions underneath. It made him consider whether he should be doing something other than target practice.

Too bad Felicity’s father wasn’t here to be the target, he thought idly as he began firing arrows at the balls Digg tossed in the air. That would relax him: finally getting a hit on Tony Stark. 

“This isn’t about Felicity, is it?” Digg asked as he got some more tennis balls. “Things seem good with you two.” 

Oliver lowered his bow. “They are good. Even after . . . well, I asked her to move in with me.” 

“Really?” Digg asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I know. It was too soon,” Oliver sighed. “But . . . I just keep having this feeling that she’s only safe with me.”

“That’s love for you,” Digg said quietly. “But you can’t wrap Felicity in bubble wrap and hide her away.”

When they had returned to Starling City, Oliver had spent an evening with Digg, hashing over everything that had happened in Los Angeles. He had needed someone to talk to, someone that would listen and not judge him for wanting to kill the men who had attacked Felicity. And in the course of the Scotch-fueled evening, Oliver had admitted, without saying the actual words, how he felt about Felicity. Digg had cautioned him to take things slowly, to not rush. 

“Not just because you don’t want to move too fast, but with trying to figure out this Undertaking thing, who’s actually leading it . . . you don’t want to deal with a break-up on top of that,” Digg had warned him.

It was sensible and logical. It was what Oliver had needed to hear, even if he didn’t really want to think about Felicity breaking up with him or having to slow down. Because it was hard not to hold on to Felicity as tightly as he could. To tell her everything he was thinking and feeling. 

Because life was short. 

But how much of this was just an overreaction to what had happened in Los Angeles? To feeling like Felicity was in danger? That only his protection was enough? It was his emotions getting the better of him. Even if Rob wasn’t Oliver’s ideal bodyguard, there was no denying the man took his job seriously. 

So Oliver just needed to stay focused. Focused on balancing his need to keep Felicity safe with her need to live her life. To remain part of her life. And in the meanwhile, he needed to find out more about the Undertaking. 

Coming back to his conversation with Digg, Oliver nodded. “I know that. I don’t really want to put her in a tower or up on a pedestal, because . . . because then she wouldn’t be Felicity.” 

Digg smiled. “Good.” 

After another few rounds, though, that feeling was still there. That itch just under his skin. Lowering his bow, Oliver took a deep breath. “I think I need to go see Felicity. Maybe I feel this way because Rob got tied up with something about her car and he’s not with her.” 

Digg frowned. “He’s not with Felicity? Did he get a replacement?” 

“I don’t think so . . .” Oliver said, his fear ticking up a notch. 

“That’s not proper procedure,” Digg said, pulling out his phone. “I’m going to call this in.” 

Oliver was already unbuckling his quiver. “I’ve got my bike. Meet me at Stark Industries once you know more.” 

Even though it would be more efficient to wait, to let Digg drive him, Oliver wasn’t about to wait. Not with Digg’s reaction confirming what he had been thinking all morning: he shouldn’t have left Felicity alone.

It was only the desire to avoid the delay of a speeding ticket that kept Oliver from opening up his bike on the way to Felicity’s office. His mind kept telling him that it was all probably nothing. 

But his gut wouldn’t let those justifications take over. Saying it was nothing was what had lead to Felicity getting threatened in her own building, to the second kidnapping, to not going with her today. 

This had to stop. Once he found Felicity, he was going to put his foot down and say that she had to hire a private investigator, since the SCPD clearly wasn’t doing enough to find out who was targeting her. 

He couldn’t lose her. But he was willing to risk her anger if it meant she stayed alive. But thinking about Felicity’s life in those terms made Oliver open up the throttle more. 

The sound of sirens penetrated his mind and Oliver cursed in Russian as he pulled his bike over. He wasn’t going that fast--

But the police car blew past him. Followed by two more cruisers and two unmarked cars. And they were heading right for Stark Industries. 

His blood ran cold and Oliver didn’t bother looking at the speedometer as he started driving again. All his focus was on getting to SI as quickly as possible. 

The cops had pulled right up to the front door, two officers already working to hold back a few photographers and reporters. Oliver shouldered his way through the crowd, ignoring the cops as he headed towards the front doors. 

“Hey, stop, you can’t go in there--” one of the officers said, only for Detective Lance to open one of the doors to the building and wave off his fellow cop. 

“It’s all right, Simone, he can come in,” Lance said, his voice gruff but strangely sympathetic. 

And that told Oliver that this was bad. Really, really bad. 

“Is Felicity okay?” he said, not caring about the history between him and Lance, not caring about anything but an answer to his question. 

“Inside, Queen,” Lance said, taking him by the arm and dragging him into the building. “You don’t want to hear about this in front of the vultures.” The detective gestured behind them, towards the press, and Oliver broke out in a cold sweat. 

“Just tell me,” he demanded when the doors had closed behind them, trying to sound as intimidating as he did as the Green Arrow. He nearly succeeded, except for how his voice broke halfway through the sentence. 

Lance gave him a long look, one that reminded him of how he always looked at Oliver when he arrived to pick up Laurel. But there was no threat or menace in it. Just more of that awful sympathy. 

“From what we can tell, Felicity Stark was kidnapped two hours ago by five men. One of them was Malcolm Merlyn; the other four apparently work for him.” 

The blood rushed in his ears and his hands spasmed at his sides. Two hours. While he had been shooting arrows at tennis balls and wishing it was her father, Felicity had been suffering, wondering what would happen to her, scared and hurt and alone . . . 

Oliver told himself to breathe. But he couldn’t seem to open his mouth or take in oxygen through his nose. Not when his chest was being crushed from the inside out by the weight of his guilt and worry and complete, utter fear. 

“Queen,” Lance said, his voice firm. “Breathe, Queen.” 

Somehow, he managed to suck in a breath, then another. And his mind immediately clicked into gear. Immediately began working this problem. “Have you called Felicity’s parents? Have there been any ransom demands? And where’s her bodyguard? He said something this morning about her car being vandalized.” 

“My captain is calling the Starks right now,” Lance said, his voice equal parts wariness and an odd respect. “I need to get a statement from you to help us fill in the blanks. The story her assistant is telling is a bit disjointed.”

“Disjointed?” Oliver asked. Gerry was a very competent EA: organized and dedicated to Felicity. Totally loyal, willing to do anything for her. Just like everyone who worked for her, just like everyone who met her--

Cutting off the thought, Oliver pushed his emotions down and focused his mind back on what Lance was saying.

“Yeah, he was hit with some kind of drug,” Lance said, beginning to walk in the direction of the elevators. “Paramedics have brought him around, but he’s not making much sense right now. We only know about Merlyn because of Ms. Stark’s appointment calendar.” 

“Have you looked at the security footage?” Oliver asked, trying not to run to the elevators.

“It’s coming.” Lance paused at the elevators and eyed him. “You gonna be able to hold it together?” he asked bluntly. “I’ll let you stay, but if you’re gonna pull anything--”

Oliver cut him off with a shake of his head. “We have the same goal: finding Felicity. I want to do whatever I can to help.” 

That seemed to be enough, because Lance nodded his head once in a quick jerk, then waved Oliver onto the elevator. And once inside the metal box, Oliver took two deep breaths, doing everything he could to stay calm.

Because Felicity needed him.

XXX

The Starks would be arriving at any moment and Oliver was pacing in front of the large windows in Felicity’s office. He had been doing that for the last hour, ever since he finished giving his statement and had silently watched the security camera footage with Lance and the other officers. Pacing and holding himself back from going to the Foundry, putting on his leathers, and starting to fire arrows into anyone connected to Malcolm Merlyn.

Only Digg’s constant presence kept him from doing that. Because with this move against Felicity, everything fell into place. It was Merlyn who was behind the Undertaking, the one who had kidnapped his stepfather and threatened his mother, the one who had been attacking Felicity and right now had the woman he loved. 

How had he been so blind? He had missed all the clues, missed the signs that it was Malcolm who was doing this. The man had never been a humanitarian, but ever since the death of his wife, he had been a cold and remote bastard. Whatever flaws Oliver’s father had, no matter the mixed feelings Oliver still had when he thought of his father, at least Robert Queen had recognized the evil he had done. 

Merlyn didn’t. He thought he was on the path to righteousness. And that meant it didn’t matter who died along the way. 

But Oliver was damned if Felicity would be one of those people. 

“Easy, Oliver,” Digg said quietly, moving to stand beside him, his back to the windows and his eyes scanning the people in the office. 

“I should have stayed with her,” he said flatly. “It hasn’t even been three weeks since what happened in LA. Since the last kidnapping. If I had been with her, nothing would have happened to her. She’d be sitting right here, working and telling me to go away so she could concentrate.” 

“Or Merlyn would have drugged you and taken you along. Or just killed you,” Digg said, his voice calm. “No one could have anticipated him being so brazen, coming in here and abducting Felicity from her own company in broad daylight.” 

He shook his head. “I should have.” 

“Oliver, you didn’t even know Merlyn was the bad guy. You can’t let your guilt get the better of you,” Digg said. He rested a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, squeezing firmly.

The flurry of activity around the front doors picked up, visible even from the nineteenth floor windows that Oliver was looking through. He took a deep breath. “Felicity’s parents must be here.”

Digg turned and looked, then nodded. “Looks like it.” 

For the next five minutes, Oliver made himself breathe slowly, bracing himself. Ready to take whatever the Starks dished out to him, whatever blame or anger they took out on him. Because he deserved all that and more. Pepper had warned him that he needed to be careful with Felicity, and he hadn’t been careful. 

The buzz of conversation in the room immediately went silent when Tony and Pepper stepped into the office. Pepper’s hair was in a ponytail, but it wasn’t smooth and sleek, and her eyes were red. Tony’s suit was rumpled and his hair looked like it was standing on end. “Who’s in charge?” he said, his voice full of command. 

“That would be me,” Lance said, stepping forward and holding out a hand. “Detective Quentin Lance.”

Tony ignored the outstretched hand and moved to the televisions mounted on the wall across from Felicity’s desk. “Let’s see the video footage again. I watched it on the plane but I need a higher-resolution display.” 

Everyone scurried around to do as Tony said, but Pepper immediately walked over to Oliver. He took a breath, trying to be ready for whatever she said. But instead, Pepper wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. 

“We’re going to find her, Oliver,” she said quietly. 

His arms hung at his sides because he was too shocked to actually return Pepper’s hug. She drew back from him and tried to smile. “Not expecting that?” 

He shook his head slowly. “Not--not at all.” 

But suddenly, he understood just where Felicity got her warmth, that ability to know exactly what a person needed and being willing to give it to them. It came from Pepper. 

Oliver’s shoulders straightened a little as he stood up to his full height. “How are you?” 

“Managing,” she said, still with that ghost of a smile on her face. “Trying to keep Tony from freaking out while drawing together all our available cash to prepare for a ransom.” 

“I can help with that, too,” Oliver said immediately. “I’ll call my mother and whatever we have available is yours.” _And even if it wasn’t available_ , he thought to himself. 

“Thank you, Oliver,” she said, nodding. “It’s appreciated.” She gave him a long look. “But nobody, not even the police, honestly thinks that Malcolm Merlyn wants money in exchange for Felicity.” 

Rubbing his hands over his face and letting them rest on the back of his neck, he nodded. “No . . . everything has been about acquiring her processor, but we don’t know why.”

“Whatever the reason is, he can’t have it,” Pepper said. “I don’t care if this is just corporate espionage gone wrong or something worse--he’s taken my daughter and until she’s back, safe and sound, I won’t trust that man with anything that he wants.” 

“That’s very understandable, Mrs. Stark,” Digg said gently, stepping forward, “but right now, Merlyn has the leverage in this situation.” 

“He has my daughter, you mean,” Pepper snapped, before she sighed and closed her eyes. “Forgive me.” 

Oliver pressed his hand gently against Pepper’s back. “It’s okay, Pepper. Digg,” he said, looking at his bodyguard and giving Pepper a moment to compose herself, “would you call my mother and pass along my request about gathering some cash? And then . . .” He hesitated for a moment, then went ahead. “Go to Verdant and pick up my other suit.” 

Digg gave him a long look, asking if Oliver wanted to do this, and when Oliver stayed silent and met his gaze, Digg nodded. “Yes, Mr. Queen.” Without another word, but with definite concern radiating off him, he left the office. 

“Thank you,” Pepper said, breathing slowly. 

He nodded. “What is Tony thinking?”

“That you should take your hand off my wife and get over here,” Tony called out, his eyes on the video screens.

Pepper rolled her eyes, which was a relief given the circumstances, and walked over to Tony. Oliver followed her, watching as Pepper took Tony’s arm. “Did you see anything?”

“No,” he said, sounding frustrated.

“We’ve got teams searching all of Merlyn’s properties, but with his holdings it’s taking some time,” Lance said. “His son doesn’t know anything about his father’s movements.”

“Tommy got cut off by Malcolm over a month ago,” Oliver contributed quietly. “And they weren’t on good terms before that.” 

Tony waved a hand in the air, as if brushing away irrelevant facts. “Merlyn will have to make contact at some point to tell us what he wants. He’s not exactly original--he’s clearly working from that _How to Be an Evil Supervillain for Dummies_ book he got for Christmas.”

All the attacks against Felicity, the threats, had been centered around Felicity’s processor. His hand slid into the pocket of his jeans, fingering the tiny plastic case with the prototype. If it came to it . . . would he exchange this for Felicity? Would he let Merlyn carry out whatever plan he had, if it meant Felicity was safe?

He didn’t know. And until he could talk to Felicity’s parents without Detective Lance around, he was going to wait. Wait and see what Tony’s plan was. 

The ringing of the phone on Felicity’s desk made everyone except Tony and Oliver jump. Lance strode over and picked up the receiver. “Yeah?” He listened for a moment, then gestured to Tony and Pepper. 

All of them hurried over to stand by the desk as Lance punched a button, putting the call on speaker.

“Okay, tell us what you want in exchange for Miss Stark,” Lance said firmly. 

“It’s quite simple,” the electronically-disguised voice said. “Felicity Stark created a very special computer processor. I want it.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver noticed Tony doing something on his phone. Lance noticed, too, but ignored it in favor of answering. “We need proof that you’ve got Felicity Stark.” 

“No,” the voice said, and then there was a squawk and the voice kept going, now no longer modulated.

“You just need to send Tony and Pepper Stark to 2417 Pratt Street with the processor,” Malcolm Merlyn said. 

Oliver’s jaw tensed at the confirmation that it was Merlyn who had Felicity. The father of his best friend. A man he had known his whole life . . . Oliver swallowed and stayed quiet, folding his arms over his chest.

“When?” Tony asked, his voice tight. 

“Be there at seven p.m.,” Merlyn gloated. “Both of you need to be there. No police or else your daughter will pay.” 

“Let me talk to her,” Pepper said, her voice soft. 

Tony eyed Pepper, then took her hand and squeezed it tightly. 

“I’m afraid Felicity is still unconscious. But perhaps we can arrange something else.” 

There was a long pause that felt like a year, then the video screens in the office flickered, the black-and-white security camera footage replaced with a full-color image. 

Of Felicity, tied to an office chair, her head lolling on her chest. 

Without any conscious thought, Oliver’s feet moved him to stand right in front of one of the monitors, leaning in, taking in everything he could from the image. How tightly the zip ties were wrapped around her wrists and ankles--Felicity could have nerve damage when this was over. If she was still unconscious, she must have been given a large dose of sedative. And her glasses were gone. 

That was perhaps what made his heart hurt the most. Felicity couldn’t see anything without her glasses or contacts, and she had told him once how much she hated that. “It hits me in some lizard part of my brain and makes me want to curl up in a ball.” 

She would be so scared when she woke up. 

“Until tonight,” Merlyn said before a click and the dial tone indicated he had hung up.

The room was filled with a heavy silence, and then Lance took a breath and clapped his hands. “Okay, people, let’s start making plans. The first thing--”

“The first thing is that you give me the room,” Tony said, looking at Lance. 

The detective frowned, his eyes narrowed, but then he nodded. “Alright, everyone, reconvene in the conference room.” 

The officers started filing out, but Oliver didn’t move. After a moment, it was just him, Tony and Pepper. 

Tony nodded and wrapped an arm around Pepper, rubbing her back for a moment as he lowered his head to her ear. “She’s gonna be okay, Pepp,” he said, so quietly that Oliver could barely hear him.

Felicity’s mother nodded and ran a hand over her face. 

Edging away from the video monitors, Oliver joined them by Felicity’s desk. After a moment, Tony looked up and noticed Oliver and straightened up. “Okay,” the older man said. “How are we going to get Felicity back?” 

XXX

For the next hour, Oliver argued with Tony, Tony argued with Pepper, and Pepper kept the SCPD at bay. Taking full advantage of Tony’s status as an Avenger, she gave the cops busywork by sending them to check on ‘leads’. Meanwhile, amid everyone yelling at each other, they tried to come up with a plan. 

It wasn’t going well, though. And Oliver was tired of it. Not when they were getting closer to the deadline without a strategy that had a snowball’s chance in hell of working. When they were no closer to getting Felicity back. 

“If we’re in there, we can get her out and Merlyn doesn’t get the processor,” Tony argued, his voice raised. 

“But what if something goes wrong? You’re risking Felicity’s life!” Pepper said, her voice breaking. “I don’t care about the damn chip, I care about Felicity!”

“You’re acting like I don’t!” Tony threw the words back in her face. “But we don’t have any other options but give Merlyn a fake, since we don’t know where the real one is anyway!”

Pepper glared at her husband and opened her mouth, and Oliver knew it was time to speak up. He stepped forward, drawing the small plastic container out of the pocket of his jeans. “I have it.” 

Both of the Starks whipped around to face him, their faces wearing identical expressions of shock and surprise. Tony recovered first. “How the hell do you have it?” 

“Felicity gave it to me. This morning,” Oliver said, his mind flashing back to being warm and happy, to being in Felicity’s bed and seeing her smile at him. “She--she said it was an extra precaution. That she knew I’d keep this safe.”

Tony looked annoyed and angry. “Why did she give it to you?” 

“Not now, Tony,” Pepper said, elbowing him before looking at Oliver. “At least now we know where the processor is. So we can take it with us and make the exchange.” 

“Sure, let’s do that. We’ll give Merlyn exactly what he wants and he kills Felicity right in front of us!” 

Oliver’s hand actually clenched into a fist as he felt the urge to punch Tony Stark in his face. For making Pepper gasp and swallow, for making Oliver’s vision white out for a moment, for saying what none of them wanted to think about. 

“Stop that,” Pepper said, her voice high and thready. “I’m scared, too, but you do not get to do that, Tony, just because you’re scared and ready to go on high alert.” 

“I feel the same way,” Oliver said, his eyes meeting Tony’s and holding his gaze. Feeling a sense of kinship with Felicity’s father for the first time. “I want to give Merlyn whatever he wants and get Felicity back. But with what he’s planning, he’ll do what he says he’ll do once he has the processor.” 

“What are you talking about, Queen?” Tony asked gruffly, his hand resting on Pepper’s back. 

Swallowing, Oliver did his best to organize his thoughts, even with the constant refrain of _find Felicity--save Felicity_ acting like a second heartbeat. “For months, I’ve been seeing signs of a conspiracy to destroy the Glades--the low-income part of town,” he explained. “I didn’t know who was leading it, but . . . but my mother is involved. So was my father, and his decision to not be a part of it anymore lead to his death, to--to my five years on the island, to everything that’s happened since I came back.” 

The words were heavy and bitter in his mouth, because what he was admitting weren’t the kind of things you wanted to tell anyone. Let alone your girlfriend’s parents. But the Starks’ opinion of him didn’t matter, compared to Felicity’s life and safety. 

“Malcolm Merlyn must be the one in charge of this conspiracy,” Oliver said, meeting Tony and Pepper’s eyes. “If he wants the processor, it’s for whatever he’s going to do to the Glades. It’s not just Felicity’s life on the line--it’s everyone who lives in the Glades, too.”

He made himself stop talking. Because they knew what he wasn’t saying. And Oliver didn’t think he could live with himself if he actually said the words. That even though he would give up his life in a heartbeat to save Felicity, he didn’t think he could ask hundreds or thousands of people to do that. If it was Felicity’s life versus the lives of everyone in the Glades . . . 

If this was what being a hero was, Oliver didn’t want it. But he didn’t have a choice. 

“Mr. Queen.” 

Even though his voice was low, the impact of Digg’s voice was like a stone through a plate-glass window. Taking a deep breath, Oliver walked towards his bodyguard, who was holding a large duffle bag. 

“That’s your suit, your bow and your quiver,” Digg said, his voice low as he passed the bag to Oliver. “But Oliver--when I talked to your mother--you might want to turn on the news.” 

Frowning, Oliver glanced over at Tony and Pepper, then back at Digg. But his questions died at the look on Digg’s face, so he set the bag aside and then walked over to one of the TVs. He managed to get channel 52 up, then took a step back when he saw his mother’s face. 

Moira Queen was all polished, elegant beauty--unless you looked at her eyes and saw the fear and the shame there. “ . . . complicit in an Undertaking with one horrible purpose--to destroy the Glades and everyone in it. I realize now that my family’s safety will mean nothing if I let this dreadful act occur. But you need to know that the architect of this nightmare is Malcolm Merlyn . . . ” 

“That’s good. And not good,” Tony said as his mother finished her statement and then walked away from the podium. 

Oliver punched the button on the television, turning it off, before facing Tony. “If the Glades are being evacuated, it means less people at risk.” 

“And more risk for Felicity,” Tony said. “Merlyn could move up his timetable or just kill Felicity for shits and giggles.” 

“Still not helpful, Tony,” Pepper said. “He needs Felicity’s processor to do whatever he’s planning. And if we show up and Felicity’s dead, we’re not going to cooperate.” 

Nodding, trying to push aside the rush of fear at the thought of Felicity dying, Oliver ran his hands over his face. “What time is it?” 

“Five-thirty,” Digg said. 

“Digg, go get Detective Lance,” he said. “We’re going to need the police to take up position outside the warehouse, to take Merlyn into custody.”

“So you’ve got a plan?” Tony asked, his hands buried in his trouser pockets.

He looked at Felicity’s father. “I give you the processor and you go to the warehouse. I’ll take out the guards and cover you while you get Felicity and get her out.” 

“That’s not a plan, it’s suicide,” Digg protested. 

“All that matters is saving Felicity,” Oliver said, keeping his eyes on Tony and Pepper. 

“I won’t go in with the real processor,” Tony replied calmly. “It’s too dangerous.” 

Pepper stepped forward. “And he’s not going in alone. We both have to come, that’s what Malcolm said.”

“We don’t have time--” Oliver snapped, feeling his control start to slip. He had tried, all day, to stay calm, to hold back. Because it wasn’t just about Felicity. He had to stop Malcolm, had to protect Starling. 

But all he wanted was to find Felicity and make sure she was safe. Hold her in his arms and tell her that he loved her. 

“Can’t you just suit up and do your thing?” Digg said, looking at Tony. 

“Merlyn is expecting me to do that. It’s so obvious, he’ll have planned for it,” Tony said in annoyance. “That’s the problem with the not-so-secret identity.” 

“There has to be another way,” Pepper said quietly. “One that doesn’t end with my daughter being heartbroken and guilty.” 

That phrase--another way--made Oliver close his eyes. Made him remember when Felicity told him she knew his secret. Made him almost believe it would have been better if he had never shown up at Felicity’s door that Monday morning and told her he wanted her to help him find that other way. 

But he didn’t really believe that. Not when she had helped turn him into a hero. 

“Would Merlyn expect you?” 

Tony’s question jerked Oliver out of his head. “What?” he asked, opening his eyes.

“Not you-you, the other you,” Tony said, his voice speeding up. “The nutbar in green. If me and Pepper go in and give him a fake processor, you can do whatever it is you do and get the drop on Merlyn. We get Felicity out, the cops storm in, done and done.” 

Oliver looked over at Digg. He looked thoughtful, then nodded. “With me as backup, it’d give you more options. A better chance.” 

“What am I, chopped liver?” Tony asked. “I can do stuff out of the suit.” 

Ignoring Tony, Pepper stepped forward and rested a hand on Oliver’s arm. “This is what we should do. You don’t have to do this alone, Oliver.” 

Could it work? Could he really save the city _and_ Felicity, without having to sacrifice himself? It didn’t seem right. Because . . . because deep down, he had thought he wouldn’t survive the work of redeeming his father’s--his parents’--mistakes. But--but if he could--

“Felicity said that to me,” he choked out. “That there was another way.” 

Pepper’s smile was soft yet blinding. “My daughter is a genius.” 

He looked at her and suddenly realized he just--he had to tell someone what he was feeling. Just in case anything happened . . . But he hadn’t expected the words to slip out so easily. “I love her.” 

There was no surprise in Pepper’s eyes at his admission. Her smile just deepened. “Then do what I said. Find another way and make it work.” 

“My motto is ‘always do what Pepper says’,” Tony commented. 

“Then why am I always saying ‘Tony, no’?” Pepper asked, her voice dry. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Mr. Diggle, was it? Let’s get the boys in blue in here and tell them what’s happening. I hope you don’t have some kind of costume to get into, because we’re running low on time. Especially if I need to whip up a fake version of Felicity’s processor.”

XXX

Darkness was falling slowly over the Glades as Oliver crouched on the warehouse’s rooftop, his hood down, Diggle at his side. He breathed in and out slowly, preparing for what was to come. 

They had been waiting a half hour for Tony and Pepper to arrive, having moved into position well before their arrival to hopefully evade any notice. Which meant Oliver had spent the entire thirty minutes thinking about what might go wrong. 

There were too many risks. To Felicity, to Tony and Pepper, to Digg, to the entire city . . . he still wasn’t sure if his way wouldn’t have been better. Or maybe it would have been easier. Easier to not have to live with the guilt of failing, if he did fail to take out Malcolm Merlyn. 

Could he live with failing if Felicity was all right? He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure. But hopefully, it would all work out as Tony had planned. 

Which, given what Felicity had told him about her father’s plans, should be worrying. But nothing made him worry more than thinking about Felicity’s condition. 

Had Malcolm kept her tied up this entire time? Was the sedative dose too strong and she hadn’t woken up yet? Was she scared? She could be crying, right now, thinking that she was all alone and abandoned--

No. Felicity was strong. Stronger than she realized. She was okay. She had to be. He wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet. Not before he told her how he felt about her. 

“You okay, man?” 

Digg’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Oliver looked over at him and nodded, even if it wasn’t really true. He would only be okay when he knew Felicity was okay. When he knew the city was safe. 

The comm unit in his ear crackled. “Pulling up now,” Tony’s voice said quietly. 

“Copy that,” Digg replied, speaking into his own comm, then looked at Oliver. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Oliver said, reaching for the hatch that, according to the schematics Pepper had accessed, lead into a catwalk that ran along the warehouse’s ceiling. But he paused and looked at Digg. “No matter what, Felicity gets out safe. And her parents.” 

As soon as he made the request, Digg’s shoulders went tense. His jaw was set, but he nodded. “Okay. But you know that Felicity will kill me if anything happens to you, so don’t be stupid, Oliver.” 

“She’s the brains, I’m the muscle,” he said, giving Digg a tight smile. Then he pulled his hood up and lifted the trap door with Digg’s help. 

It opened silently and let them drop down onto the catwalk, their feet making almost no sound. Digg moved to take up position near the ladder that led to the warehouse’s floor, while Oliver stood right over Felicity. 

And since all he could do now was wait, he crouched down and focused on her. 

Felicity was awake: her head no longer hung against her chest, and he could see her looking around. If he listened hard, he thought he could hear her muttering softly to herself. And knowing that she was okay, that she was awake, made some of his fear go away. Once she was free of the chair, she would be able to get out of here. 

It took everything he had not to use a grappling arrow, slide down to the floor and free her. To get her out of here. Because he could see her shivering in the cold warehouse. Because her hands and feet must be in agony from being bound like that. But they still didn’t know what Merlyn’s play was and they needed to know. She would never forgive him for putting her life above anyone else’s. 

So he stayed there, silent and still, when Malcolm sauntered in and asked Felicity if she had changed her mind. Her defiance made him smile. Because it reminded him of how she was the first time they met, when she was in a fancy dress and he was in his leathers, and she was telling some two-bit mobster that he could do his worst to her.

Although listening to her voice shake when her parents were brought in, knowing how scared she was for them . . . it was hard. And being called a himbo wasn’t pleasant, either. 

But then Felicity said she loved him, and even though he knew the words were spoken in the middle of an argument, and he should be getting ready to get everyone out and take down Merlyn, Oliver couldn’t. Because she loved _him_. 

Hearing that gave him clarity. Something to fight for. Digg had told him he needed that, but he hadn’t understood. Hadn’t believed him. But now he did. Now he knew what he was fighting for. 

He stood up, pulling the grappling arrow from his quiver, when he heard Tony. “Wait. Wait for Merlyn to come back.” 

Frowning, Oliver tried to find Digg and get his reaction to Tony’s order. But in the darkened space, he couldn’t make out Digg’s face. Slowly, he slid the arrow back into his quiver. He moved back into his crouched position and waited for a sign.

When Malcolm Merlyn drew a knife on Felicity, Oliver knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He stood up, nocked an arrow, and let it fly into Malcolm’s shoulder. Immediately firing his grappling arrow, Oliver slid down the rope, landing in front of Felicity.

And seeing her face for the first time since this morning, even though her hair was escaping her ponytail and her skin was pale--seeing the fire in her eyes, the light that hadn’t been extinguished--the light that was his--Oliver couldn’t help smiling at her. Her returning smile was small and a little bit worried, but still so bright. It made him feel like he could take on an army all by himself. 

Twelve men and Malcolm Merlyn didn’t stand a chance.

End, Chapter 10


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to see how Oliver saves the day. But there's some other heroes involved in saving Starling City. Many thanks to mersayseh for her betaing!

“You’re okay?” Oliver asked as he took out what looked like a huge knife and cut the zip ties on her wrists. 

Felicity rubbed her wrists and nodded. “Be careful!” she said as he pushed the knife towards her and dove into the fray. 

For a moment, she just watched Oliver. Feeling relieved that he was here, believing that he would stop Malcolm, and so amazed that he had come for her. 

“You wanna get us loose, princess?” Tony asked, scuttling over to her and holding his hands out to her. 

“Oh!” Felicity said, fumbling to use the knife. But her fingers, after hours of restricted blood flow, were barely able to hold the knife, much less wield it effectively. She winced and dropped the knife, looking up at her parents as she bit her lip. “I’m sorry, I can’t--” 

Her mother leaned in and kissed the top of her head, her fragrance of freesia and citrus and tea still present, even after a day like today. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” Pepper said as Tony picked up the knife. 

“C’mere, Pepp,” he said, managing to cut her binds. Her mother took the knife and sliced off the zip tie around Tony’s wrists, then knelt to release Felicity’s feet from the chair. 

“What’s going on? Is it just Oliver?” she asked, her eyes darting over to watch him deal with all the goons. 

“Thanks for forgetting me,” Tony said, kissing Felicity’s cheek and Pepper’s mouth. “Be right back.” 

And with that, her father dashed into the melee and started punching. 

“Is that a good idea?” Felicity asked, looking at her mother. 

“Probably not, but I don’t think either of us would be able to stop him,” Pepper pointed out, bending down to rub Felicity’s ankles. 

Nodding, Felicity looked back at the action, trying to understand what was going on as she tried to restore some of the feeling to her fingers. Squinting, she muttered, “I wish I had my glasses.” 

“Oh, here,” Pepper said, pausing her work on Felicity’s feet to reach into the pocket of her blazer. She pulled out the spare set of glasses that Felicity kept in her desk. 

Felicity blinked but took them, shoving them on her face clumsily and sighing in relief at finally being able to see. Then she looked at Pepper. “How did you know to bring these?” 

Her mother pressed her lips together. “We saw video of you, earlier. When Malcolm Merlyn called with his demands. You didn’t have your glasses.” 

“Oh,” Felicity said. Because what else could she say? What had her parents gone through, watching a video of her tied to a chair? The video must have been taken while she was passed out, she supposed, since she hadn’t noticed any signs of a camera in the warehouse. 

“What happened?” she asked, looking at her mother. “I mean, how did all this come together?” she questioned, clumsily gesturing to the fighting. 

Pepper took a deep breath. “We got a call from the police this morning, saying that you had been abducted. By the time we got to the SI offices here in Starling City, SCPD was on the scene--and Oliver, too. He showed up to see you, not long after the police arrived.” 

“What were you thinking with this plan? Coming in with a fake processor?” she said, moving faster, trying to get her fingers to work again and not feel like sausages. She grimaced as the blood began circulating in her hands and feet, the sensation a hundred times worse than the normal pins-and-needles. 

“It was better than what Oliver came up with,” Pepper said. “And with his mother revealing Merlyn was going to destroy the Glades and telling people to evacuate--we thought we could focus on saving you. Without Oliver having to sacrifice himself.” 

“What?!?” Felicity yelped, her head swiveling between her mother and Oliver. The realization that Mrs. Queen was involved in the Undertaking was dwarfed by the idea of Oliver giving himself up like that. “He wanted to--for me?”

Her mother nodded and gave her a tight grin. “You’re going to have trouble with him, Felicity.” 

“I know,” she groaned, looking back at Oliver. He was managing to deal with Merlyn’s goons while keeping Merlyn engaged, not letting him get away. She had never really seen the Green Arrow in action before. Not like this--not in person instead of on a fuzzy video feed. He was even better than she realized. 

She looked up and flinched at the sight of a black-clad men running towards her and her mother, only to jump as a gunshot echoed in the warehouse. The man dropped and Felicity looked around wildly, spotting Digg halfway up the wall, hanging off a ladder as he provided cover for them. 

“We’re not safe here--we need to get out,” Pepper said, her voice strained. But her eyes didn’t leave Tony while he attempted to hold his own against the man he was fighting. 

“I won’t leave Oliver,” Felicity said, flexing her fingers and frowning as she watched the fight going on. “Or Dad.”

“Both of them would want you safe,” Pepper argued, raising her voice over the thuds and punches and rumbles. “That’s what we all want.” 

There was something niggling at Felicity as she looked at the action. Something wrong. “Wait . . . there were twelve men and Merlyn. There’s only eleven.” 

Pepper pushed back a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “Maybe one of them ran.” 

“No . . . I don’t think so,” Felicity said loudly, trying to figure out why this felt important. “These men are loyal to Merlyn. Incredibly so. They wouldn’t run.” 

“Felicity, we need to go. Are your feet okay?” Pepper asked, her voice muted as she rose to her feet. She took one step and stumbled--something Felicity had never seen her mother do, no matter how high her heels were. 

“Mom?” Felicity said, doing her best to get up and wincing at the pain that sliced through her feet. _Now I understand what the Little Mermaid went through_ , she thought randomly as she tried to help her mother. 

And that was when she realized how loud it was in the warehouse. 

It wasn’t just the sound of a dozen men fighting. No, there was a deep rumble, like the heavy bass from the stereo. Something you weren’t really aware of, but could feel in your chest, in your bones.

Like a piece of heavy equipment had started up, so quiet at first that you didn’t even notice it, but then, as it spooled up and really got down to business, the sound of its gears and pistons were inescapable. 

Felicity felt her stomach drop. “The earthquake machine.” 

“The _what_?” her mother shouted, leaning in towards her. “Why is it so loud?” 

“That’s what Merlyn wanted my processor for!” Felicity explained, trying not to to move too much on her unsteady feet. “He built an earthquake machine to wipe out the Glades! And--and he must have sent one of his men to turn it on! That’s what’s happening.” 

Pepper’s eyes went wide. “Felicity . . .” she began, and then her voice trailed off.

For a moment, Felicity looked around the warehouse wildly. Oliver was still fighting, although six men were lying on the ground. Digg was doing his best to keep cover on her and Oliver at the same time, but since she hadn’t heard any more gunshots, she guessed he couldn’t get a good shot on any of Merlyn’s men. And in fact, he was climbing down now and moving towards them. 

“Let’s get you outta here!” he said, leaning down to pick her up. 

“No, Digg!” Felicity said, pushing against his chest to stop him. “You need to go tell the police to get everyone back! Malcolm Merlyn has an earthquake machine and he’s turned it on!”

Digg’s face was blank with shock for a moment, and then he looked at Oliver, who now had only four men and Merlyn to deal with. “The police are just outside, waiting for our signal to storm this place . . . but we’ll have to handle this. The Glades come first,” Oliver’s bodyguard said. 

Before Felicity can respond, a voice breaks through the noise. “Princess, what the hell--” 

“Dad!” Felicity grabbed Tony’s arm as he joined them. “I need your help--we have to disable the earthquake machine.” She turned to Digg and Pepper. “Talk to the SCPD and tell them what’s happening. Get them to fall back and start helping with the evacuation.” 

She could see the struggle in both their faces: Digg not wanting to leave Oliver, Pepper not wanting to leave her husband and daughter. But they both nodded. Pepper quickly kissed Felicity and then Tony, and then let Digg take her by the arm and lead her out of the warehouse. 

“You gonna explain this to me?” Tony asked, leaning in towards her.

“Absolutely,” Felicity said, taking a step and then tightening her grip on her father’s arm. Her feet were still unsteady and her whole body ached, but they had to find the earthquake machine. “Let’s talk and walk.” 

XXX

It had ended up being talking and dragging, because she just didn’t have the strength to go as fast as they needed. Once her father knew what they were facing, though, he was just as focused as she was. 

“How the hell did they get it working in the first place?” her father asked as they explored the rabbit warren of offices that filled the other half of the warehouse. 

“Merlyn said my processor would let them do the job of two machines with only one,” Felicity said, looking around wildly. “I guess he decided that one was better than nothing and got it going after he realized the processor you gave him was a fake. Since we’re still here, I don’t know if the machine is powerful enough to do what Merlyn wants it to do.”

Tony stumbled and Felicity nearly went to her knees. “Still, it’s gotta be stopped,” her father said, before muttering “There’s nothing I hate more than a dumb sociopath.” 

They kept going, searching for the machine. But after searching all the offices in the warehouse, Tony came to a stop and looked at her. “Felicity, we’ve looked through this whole place--the machine’s not here.” 

With a grimace, Felicity stopped and made herself ease down on a dusty desk, getting her weight off her feet. For just a moment, she let herself think of Oliver, let herself contemplate their real reunion, before she made herself push aside those thoughts and focus. “It’s got to be here--feel the vibrations,” she said, gesturing around the office at how the faded pictures banged against the walls. 

Tony frowned and then, he dropped to the floor, his body spread out. 

“Dad?” Felicity asked in confusion. “Dad, are you all right?” 

“It’s underneath us,” her father said, looking up at her. “I bet this place has sewer access--and that’s where you’d want to put something that causes an earthquake.” 

“Underground,” Felicity said, feeling her heart drop. “To make the waves travel through the earth, just like an actual earthquake. Especially if you’re in an area that’s otherwise seismically sound.” 

He nodded, his jaw tight. “Did we see any trap doors or access panels?” 

“It could be anywhere . . .” she said, her mind racing. 

“Staircases, elevator shafts . . .” Tony mumbled. He pulled out his phone and began pounding the keys, and then the holographic display came to life, showing a building schematic. 

Felicity leaned in, examining the rendering. “What about there?” she said, pointing at a spot towards the northwest corner of the building. “That ventilation shaft? It could be hiding a staircase or something.” 

“It’s someplace to start,” Tony said, moving his phone to his left hand as he wrapped his right arm around her waist. “C’mon, princess.” 

Hoisting her to her feet, Tony helped Felicity, holding his phone out to direct them towards the shaft. When they got to the location, she felt her hopes rise at the sight of a set of heavy double doors, standing open--and at how the noise and vibration had increased. Just inside the doors was a steel ladder, bolted against the wall and leading down through a hole in the floor into some kind of dark chamber. 

“You sure about this?” Tony asked, shouting in Felicity’s ear.

Rather than bother with words, Felicity just nodded emphatically, pulling away and grabbing the rungs of the ladder. Her hands were in better shape than her feet, so she held on as tightly as she could and started making her way down into the room below.

A light washed over her and she glanced up to see her father using the flashlight on his phone to guide her. She shot him a small smile and then did her best to hurry. Because the closer they got, the more worried she was that they were nearly out of time. 

The shaft seemed like it went on forever--but was probably only thirty feet. Halfway down, the walls changed from rough concrete to smooth porcelain tiles. The ladder shook the lower she went--or maybe it was just her arms shaking, struggling to support her weight. But Felicity gritted her teeth and did her best to ignore the pain as she kept climbing down.

When she reached the bottom, Felicity took a deep breath and stepped away from the ladder. Her legs felt weak, ready to crumple out from under her, but then her father was there, holding her up again. 

And then they turned and saw Malcolm Merlyn’s instrument of destruction. 

It didn’t look like much at first. It was a bit taller than Felicity, but it was just a frame with a piston that looked to be about two feet in diameter. There were lights on the piston, and it was moving up and down.

But then the piston made contact with the floor and Felicity was nearly knocked down from the power of the impact. The sound echoed in the underground chamber; Felicity looked around in the dim light from her father’s phone and two overhead lights. 

“It looks like an old subway station!” she said loudly to Tony, pointing to signs that said “To Platform” and “To Exit.” 

Tony nodded and leaned down. “There’s a control panel on the machine!” he yelled in her ear. “Let’s take a look!”

A control panel. Something they could use to turn the machine off! Felicity felt the hope rise up in her as Tony helped her over to the panel. Giving thanks for her mother bringing her glasses, Felicity leaned in, looking at the panel’s display. There was a countdown, paused at 02:42. She stabbed her fingers at the screen, in case it was touch-sensitive. But nothing happened: the timer kept blinking, stuck at 02:42, and she didn’t any other buttons or controls. 

“Dad, see if you can find any diagrams or schematics for this thing!” she said, gesturing to his phone. “Check Merlyn Global’s servers--and Unidac Industries!”

Her father’s fingers were already flying over the keys by the time she finished her request. She felt the impatience grow inside her, cursed the lack of dexterity she had now, and worried that the piston was starting to move just a little bit faster. 

What if they couldn’t stop it? What would happen to them, down here right next to the machine? Had her mother and Digg gotten clear? And what about Oliver? Was he alright? 

Giving her head a shake, she made herself focus on the machine, examining it. There was a metal plate on the frame--could that be important? 

Felicity reached out and wrapped her fingers around the plate, tugging on it. It came away easily, revealing a network of colored wires on top of a circuit board. And she felt a rush of hope go through her. Her father was the mechanical engineer. Because wires and circuits? _That_ she could do something with. 

Instead of trying to yell at her dad, she reached out and slapped his shoulder, getting his attention. Then she pointed at her find, making yanking motions. 

Tony’s eyes lit up and he nodded, holding up a finger as he went back to his phone. After a few moments that felt like a lifetime, he gave her a wide smile and stepped closer, his forehead wrinkled. Then he pointed at the yellow wire and repeated her yanking motion. 

Since her fingers were still slightly numb, Felicity took advantage of the lack of feeling and wrapped the yellow wire tightly around two fingers. Then she pulled, as hard as she could.

Easier than she had expected, the wire broke off from its connection. She stumbled a little and her father steadied her. The machine stuttered and resumed its motion, but it was clearly laboring now. The hum was quieter, but there was now a metallic screech layered on top. 

“Okay, now comes the hard part!” her father yelled. “We gotta splice the green and red wires.” 

“Do you have a knife or anything?” she asked, only for Tony to produce the knife that Oliver had used to cut her free. “Oh, right,” she said, feeling embarrassed at forgetting about it. 

He gave her an amused smirk and passed her his phone. Using the knife, he easily stripped the wires of their plastic sheaths. He twisted the wires together and stepped back, waiting impatiently. But his face dropped--just like Felicity’s heart--when instead of shutting down, the machine started moving faster. 

“No no no!” he mouthed, his eyes wide. Felicity looked at his phone, fumbling through the schematics he had discovered and searching for some kind of answer. Clearly, there was some kind of anti-tampering safeguard built in, so how could they get around it?

How did you stop an earthquake machine? How did you make any machine stop working? You turned it off--you cut out its control panel--you cut the power. There was no sign of the power source--no generator, no batteries--so it had to be internal, buried inside the support column and inaccessible to them with their lack of tools. And they had already tried the display and the control panel . . . 

Suddenly, an idea came to her. Felicity jerked her eyes away from the phone and looked around the machine, searching wildly. When she spotted what she wanted, she shoved the phone at her father and took the knife from his hand, clutching it tightly.

And then she squeezed in between the piston and the support structure, sawing at the thick black cable that ran along the inside of the support column. 

She had to concentrate. There was barely a foot that separated the metal frame from the large piston; if she stood with her hip against the support structure instead of her stomach, the piston would have caught her and pulled her underneath it. As it was, the piston was uncomfortably close to her as it moved up and down. Gritting her teeth, she kept working on the cable

Tony appeared in her line of vision, looking horrified and so scared, Felicity had to stop. “Control cable,” she said, over-enunciating the words so he could at least read her lips. “Cut the cable, it stops.” 

Of course her father wanted to protest, to take over for her. She could see it in his eyes. But there was no way he could fit in the tight space. So it all came down to her. 

It was so loud. The noise was so intense that she felt like her bones were rattling together. The vibrations were not just making the machine shake--it was making everything shake. Biting her lip, Felicity kept moving the knife back and forth, trying to apply more pressure to break through more of the cable. The knife Oliver had given her was sharp, but even the sharpest knife would have a hard time with this task. 

And then her father reached in and wrapped his hands over hers, helping her press harder. 

Felicity winced but kept going. It looked like the feeling had finally returned to her hands at the worst possible time. But she had to do this--she had to stop this machine. If she didn’t, the Glades would be destroyed. And this building would be the first to come down--and it wouldn’t be just herself dying in the rubble.

It would be her father and Oliver, too.

That gave Felicity extra strength, strength she didn’t know she had. She could see the cable beginning to split, the interior metal wires shredding from the sawing motions of the knife. After she was halfway through, it became harder to cut the cable, until Tony moved his hands to draw the nearly-severed cable taut. And then, the cable was divided into two pieces and the machine immediately stopped. 

The silence was louder than the machine’s racket for a moment, until Felicity dropped the knife on the tile floor and a metallic clink rang out. “Oh, God,” she said, her arms falling to her sides as she leaned against the support column. 

Tony’s smile was wide and beaming. “You did it, princess.” 

Tears filled her eyes, but she shook her head. “No. We did it.” 

Reaching out a hand, he helped her move away from the machine. Felicity sucked in a deep breath, for what felt like the first time in minutes. He grinned at her. “Breathing is nice, isn’t it?” 

She nodded, feeling a bit unsteady. Because what if she hadn’t been right? What if cutting the cable hadn’t stopped it? What if she had lost her balance and fallen under the piston? 

“Easy, Felicity, easy,” her father said, rubbing her shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get outta here. Make sure Oliver’s taken care of Merlyn.” 

When he wrapped an arm around her, Felicity couldn’t help leaning against her father, taking comfort in his support. “He will--I know he will. I believe in him.” 

“Yeah, he’s pretty good,” Tony said, his voice grudging. “Better than I thought.” 

“Does that mean you like him now?” she asked, as they made their way to the ladder. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said as Felicity began climbing. “But at least I know he’s not playing around with you.”

Felicity smiled a little. No, Oliver wasn’t playing around with her. And she wasn’t playing, either. As soon as they were out of here, she was going to tell him exactly how she felt about him. She couldn’t wait to tell Oliver how much she loved him.

XXX

Once they were off the ladder, they made their way towards the main part of the warehouse. Her father pulled out his phone and made a call, probably to her mother. 

“Yeah, Pepp, we did it--well, Felicity did. She was brilliant,” Tony said, confirming Felicity’s guess as he smiled at her. But as he listened to Pepper, his smile faded and Felicity stopped walking.

“Dad? What is it?”

Tony pulled the phone away from his mouth. “Oliver hasn’t come out yet. And there’s been no sign of Merlyn, either.”

What? 

Her blood ran cold. It didn’t make sense--there were a dozen reasons that neither of them had left the warehouse--but she had a very, very bad feeling. 

By now, her feet were almost back to normal, so Felicity could move fast in her sturdy boots towards the door into the main warehouse. And that’s how she moved--so fast, like she was running for her life. 

When she pushed open the door into the warehouse, doing her best not to let it clang against the wall, Felicity was breathing hard. But all her breath was stolen away by what she saw, only twenty feet away. 

Oliver and Merlyn, fighting. 

Fighting in a pitched battle that showed no signs of stopping. All of Merlyn’s men were lying on the ground, arrows protruding from shoulders or thighs, so it was just Oliver against Merlyn. No longer using their bows in favor of throwing punches, making contact. But she didn’t know how long they could keep this up, not with how long they must have been fighting. 

And then Merlyn got Oliver in a headlock from behind, and pushed him to his knees. 

“Send in the cavalry, Pepper,” her father said from behind her, his voice very calm. Felicity barely registered the beep of Tony ending the call, then his hands were on her arms, moving her aside. “Stay here, Felicity.”

The words were faint and far-away, because all her focus was on Oliver. His hood had remained up somehow, so she couldn’t see much of his face. Just his jaw, set tightly as he tried to break free of Merlyn’s hold. 

She didn’t know what her father was going to do. She never found out. Because Felicity knew that Oliver caught sight of her, by the way he tensed, by the way he lifted his head ever-so-slightly before giving it a small shake.

For a long, endless moment, Felicity couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Because she knew him. She knew he was scared that Merlyn was going to beat him, scared about what might happen even with the earthquake machine being disabled. If he even realized what was going on with the earthquake machine. He might not even realize that the Glades were safe, that he could stop fighting and let the police take care of Malcolm Merlyn. 

So she needed to tell him it was safe. 

Felicity did her best to smile, and she opened her mouth. But before she could say anything, Oliver moved. With lightning-fast reflexes, he grabbed a stray arrow and shoved it through his chest and into Merlyn, both of them letting out a loud gasp. 

Or maybe that was the noise that escaped her, at the sight of the man she loved with an arrow through his chest. 

“Felicity! Felicity, snap out of it!” 

“What?” Felicity startled, the sound of her father’s voice loud and insistent. “Dad?” 

And then she focused, coming out of her head, out of the scene that had been replaying in her mind: Oliver, stabbing himself in the chest in order to take out Malcolm Merlyn. 

Tony was kneeling by Oliver, frowning as his hands pressed against Oliver’s chest. 

“Oh my God,” she said, stumbling over and dropping to her knees. “Oliver!” 

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at her blearily. “Fel . . .?” 

She cupped his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks. “Hold on--hold on, Oliver. You hear me?”

“He hit something important, I think,” Tony said distractedly. “Felicity, we need paramedics in here now. And the police for that sack of shit,” he added, jerking his head towards Merlyn, who was lying very still, a few feet away. 

“Right, right,” Felicity said, keeping one hand on Oliver’s cheek as she took her father’s phone. She quickly hit the contact for her mother. 

Pepper’s voice was frantic. “Tony?” 

“Mom, we need the police and paramedics right now--Oliver’s hurt. And Digg, we need Digg,” Felicity said, falling all over her words. She looked down at Oliver and, for some nonsensical reason, tugged the hood a little lower to cover more of his face. But there was no way the paramedics could treat Oliver without taking off the hood, without discovering that Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow. 

And she knew he wasn’t ready to have that happen, for the truth to come out, but if it was a choice between his identity and his life, Felicity knew what she had to choose. Even if it meant losing Oliver.

Her father grabbed the phone from her hand. “Pepper, get NDAs ready for the paramedics and call ahead to the hospital to get the place on lockdown. You know what to do.” 

Felicity blinked as her father hung up the phone. “Dad?” 

“He doesn’t want to be outed, let’s keep it that way,” Tony said. “After all, no one would bat an eye at Tony Stark taking care of the mysterious crimefighter that rescued his daughter--and making them sign nondisclosure agreements, right?” 

The relief that rushed over her made her dizzy. Or maybe it was finally running out of adrenaline after going without food or water for a day. It was probably mostly that, she knew. But either way, Felicity let herself sink down onto the floor and close her eyes. 

Starling City was safe. Merlyn was defeated. Oliver’s identity was still a secret and the paramedics were on their way. In fact, she could hear the sound of voices, loud and echoing in the warehouse, calling out things like ‘bring the gurneys’ and ‘start triage’. 

So maybe she could just close her eyes and take a nap for a little while. After all, Oliver was going to need her when she woke up.

XXX

A combination of sensations awoke Felicity Stark. A rhythmic beeping. A gentle warmth, concentrated on her hand. An itchy tickle in her nose. 

And a fierce desire to pee. 

Slowly, Felicity lifted her eyes. They felt heavy, like her eyelashes were lifting weights, but she got them open enough to squint them closed against the bright assault. Trying again, she realized that the light was from a window, the rays of the setting sun pouring into the room. 

Turning her head away from the waning sunlight, she saw her father, holding her hand while he operated his phone with the other. His eyes were narrowed as he focused on whatever he was working on. And it was so normal and ordinary that Felicity soaked it up, until she realized there was a manic edge to her father’s movements, an unusual intensity. And she realized that what had happened to her must be hitting him. 

With all her strength, Felicity squeezed his hand. 

For the first time in her life, her father dropped his phone, letting it crash to the floor as his eyes locked on hers. “Felicity,” he breathed out, rising to his feet and then reaching out to hug her. 

“Hi, Dad,” she said, her voice scratchy. Her throat ached from the two small words, even after he helped her drink some water. 

“Hold on,” he said, putting the cup down and then dashing over to the door. “Pepper! She’s awake.” 

That announcement prompted a flurry of activity, with her mother running in and immediately hugging Felicity tightly, then nurses and a doctor coming into her room to check her condition. It was overwhelming, making Felicity hold back her own questions and just answer the doctor’s. 

“Well, Miss Stark, you’re recovering well from the dehydration you suffered. I’m recommending you see an orthopedist, to check on your hands and feet given what you went through,” the doctor summed up, her name tag identifying her as Dr. Chowdhury. “You could probably be discharged sometime tomorrow, if you continue to improve.” 

“Do I have to do the orthopedist visit before I leave the hospital?” she asked, looking up at the doctor’s face. “I feel okay . . .”

Dr. Chowdhury shook her head. “No, but I’d recommend doing that within the next few days.” 

Felicity sighed in relief. “Great.” 

“Although maybe you should,” Pepper said, stroking Felicity’s hair. “You don’t want to risk any permanent damage, Felicity.” 

“I’m okay, Mom. I--I just want to see--I want to see the Green Arrow and thank him for saving me,” Felicity said, stumbling as she remembered that they were trying to keep Oliver’s identity as the Green Arrow secret. 

“I’m afraid that . . . patient is still recovering from surgery,” Dr. Chowdhury replied. “You might want to wait until he wakes up.” 

Biting her lip, Felicity looked at her parents, then at the doctor. “He’s all alone?” she asked softly. 

Pepper patted Felicity’s shoulder. “Your dad and I have spent some time with him. He’s not alone.”

“Still, I’d like to go see him. Now,” Felicity stated, looking at the doctor and lifting her chin, infusing her request with the air of command her parents pulled off so easily, in their own ways. 

The doctor heaved out a sigh. “I suppose it’s all right, but I must insist you use a wheelchair, Miss Stark.” 

“Fine,” Felicity said, not caring about the conditions as long as she could get to Oliver.

The time it took for an orderly to arrive with a wheelchair felt like an eternity, but finally she was in the chair that her father pushed slowly down the hallway, her mother walking beside her, looking flawless in her heels and tailored dress. But Felicity could see the strain on Pepper’s face, so she reached out and took her hand. 

“What happened? While I was asleep?” Felicity asked, looking up at Pepper. 

Her mother took a deep breath. “Well . . . Mr. Merlyn is dead. The police and the FBI raided his home and offices and discovered more details about this Undertaking of his. There were a lot of injuries and about a dozen deaths in the Glades from the earthquake machine. And--and Moira Queen has been arrested.” 

Felicity nodded, feeling her head hurt. It was a lot to take in, and she couldn’t remember if she knew why Oliver’s mother was arrested or not. That was something she could figure out later, once she had seen her boyfriend. 

“The non-disclosure agreements have worked so far?” she asked, twisting in the wheelchair to look at her father. 

Tony nodded. “Yep. Them, and the big bonuses I passed out.” 

Reaching back, Felicity touched his hand. “Thank you, Dad.” 

He nodded, easing her chair to a stop in front of a room at the end of the hall. “He saved you, after all.” 

Swallowing, Felicity looked at the door. She could sense her parents exchanging looks behind her, having that silent communication. “Mom, Dad? Could you give me a minute?” 

Pepper rubbed her shoulder. “Of course, Felicity. We’ll wait in your room. You can call a nurse if you need help getting back.” 

“Do we really wanna leave her alone--” her father started to say, only for Pepper to interrupt him. 

“Tony, Felicity knows what she’s doing.” And with that, her mother pulled him down the hall.

Now that she was here and all alone, Felicity felt . . . nervous. Unsettled. Because this was the first time Oliver had gotten hurt. This was what her future would be, if she stayed with Oliver. If she went in there and told him she loved him, this could happen again. It _would_ happen again, because he was a hero and heroes got hurt. 

It would be easy to tell him she loved him. It would be so, so hard to actually love him, despite the fear and worry and sadness. Was she cut out for that? Could she live with that dark cloud, could she--

Wait. What was she doing? Why was she sitting out here in this hallway when Oliver was on the other side of that door, hurt because of her, and maybe he had woken up and he was all alone . . . 

Fumbling with the chair, Felicity pushed the door open as hard as she could and moved into the room, which was a twin of the one she had woken up in. Windows lined the wall ahead of her, with two beds at either end of the room. The one to her left was empty, and the one to her right . . . 

Taking a deep breath, Felicity moved towards Oliver’s bed, bracing herself for what she would see.

End, Chapter 11


	13. Chapter Twelve

“Felicity Stark rescued by Green Arrow. Torn between two men: Oliver Queen or the Green Arrow. Who holds Felicity Stark’s heart?” 

Her mother’s voice was amused as she read the headlines in the Starling City _Examiner_ , looking at Felicity over the top of the paper. 

Felicity groaned. “At least it’s not saying I’m cheating on Oliver with the Green Arrow,” she said glumly, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“Yes, that’s the _Tattler_ ,” Pepper commented, dropping the paper on top of a stack of local and national papers, all filled with articles about her kidnapping and rescue. “I have to say, they’re certainly having a field day. So many puns on Oliver losing his Queen . . .”

“That’s not happening,” Felicity said, rubbing her thumb against Oliver’s hand.

It was mid-morning of the day after she had woken up in the hospital. She had already been discharged, but she wasn’t about to leave before Oliver woke up. Her first sight of him in the hospital bed, so pale and so still, had rocked her to her core. It wasn’t right to see Oliver like that, looking . . . small. Not charismatic, physical Oliver. 

Only her worries about his injuries had kept her from climbing into his bed last night and wrapping herself around him. Instead, she had clumsily pushed her wheelchair towards his bed, taken his hand, and started talking. Wanting him to hear her voice, even though he was unconscious. 

Her parents had made her get some sleep after a few hours, but she refused to leave his room. Neither of them liked it--and the hospital staff weren’t thrilled, either--but it was rare for Felicity to demand anything because she was a Stark. But for this? She would use everything she had to not leave Oliver alone. 

After a few hours in the other bed in Oliver’s room, Felicity had resumed her place by his side, still talking, still holding his hand. Her mother had made her shower and change clothes when she had arrived, bribing Felicity with coffee. And she had taken a break to call Caitlin to reassure her--but Caitlin, of course, wasn’t reassured until she had talked to Felicity’s doctor. There was also a phone call to Laurel and Tommy, and a totally unnecessary apology from Rob and a tearful one from Gerry. It had taken a lot out of her, if only because she hated to be away from Oliver. 

But while all that was happening, her mother sat with Oliver. And now that Felicity had made her phone calls, all there was to do was wait for Oliver to wake up. 

“If Oliver wants to maintain his secret identity, this is probably the best way to do so,” Pepper said quietly. “All the attention is on the Green Arrow saving you; no one is really asking where Oliver was, thanks to Mr. Diggle’s statement.” 

As part of the coverup for Oliver’s treatment, Digg had gone before the cameras on the night she had been rescued, Felicity had learned. Speaking as Oliver’s representative, he told the press that “Mr. Queen had monitored the SCPD’s attack on the warehouse and then went to Starling General, arriving prior to Felicity and the Green Arrow, and he was nothing but grateful for the intervention of Starling City’s hero in rescuing Felicity.” 

Digg’s natural gravitas had gone a long way to assuage the reporters’ curiosity, at least in the immediate aftermath. But now that a day or two had passed . . . 

“It’s just a matter of time,” Felicity said softly. “Soon, they’re going to want to know more about Oliver’s reactions while I was gone, and people will remember how he was already accused of being the Green Arrow once. They’ll figure out that Oliver is the Green Arrow.” 

“You can’t blame yourself, Felicity,” Pepper said, moving her chair closer to Felicity’s. “There was no way Oliver would stand back and not do everything he could to save you.” 

She did know that. That was Oliver: so fiercely loyal and protective of the people he cared about. But that didn’t help ease her guilt. Looking down at her hand holding his, Felicity spoke softly. “I just wish he hadn’t needed to make that choice in the first place.” 

Her mother rubbed her back gently. “I know, sweetheart.” 

Sipping her coffee, Felicity tried to keep her mind from coming up with more worst-case scenarios. All the different ways that the Green Arrow being revealed as Oliver Queen would blow up in his face. Being arrested, getting sued, dealing with the press, losing his fortune, losing what remained of his family . . . it made her heart break to think of Oliver having to face any of those possibilities, after everything he had already survived. 

At least the press weren’t calling for the Green Arrow to be unmasked right now. No, they were too busy spinning her rescue into romantic adventures. The love triangle element was the strongest, but there was plenty of speculation. Oliver using his considerable funds to hunt down the Green Arrow and beg him to save Felicity; the Green Arrow revealing himself as a romantic and coming to Oliver, offering his help; there was even one tabloid claiming that the Green Arrow was a heretofore unknown twin brother of Oliver, hidden away for his own safety, who saved Felicity to get in good with the Queens.

If only the newspapers and the TV news knew that truth was stranger than fiction. 

Taking a deep breath, Felicity finished her coffee and leaned over to put the empty cup on the small bedside table. She moved to the front of her chair, wrapping both hands around Oliver’s. 

“Oliver?” she said softly. “I’m still here. My mom’s here, too. I think my dad even spent some time with you, although he wouldn’t tell me what he talked to you about.” She smiled softly, stroking his calloused fingers. “I’m sure it was about another rematch.” 

It was starting to worry her, how long it was taking Oliver to wake up. The doctors had reassured her that this was normal, but Oliver wasn’t normal. He was extraordinary. 

“I have to say, there’s one good thing that came from Malcolm Merlyn trying to get your processor, Felicity.” 

“What’s that, Mom?” she asked, turning to look at Pepper. 

“That,” Pepper said with a soft smile, indicating Felicity’s hands clasped around Oliver’s. “You and Oliver.” 

Felicity straightened up in her chair a little, feeling surprised. “Really? I mean, you . . . you approve?” 

“Oh, I liked Oliver from the beginning,” Pepper said, her smile shifting into a grin. “He held his own against your father, when Tony was at his most belligerent, which automatically made me inclined to like Oliver.” 

Grinning back, Felicity nodded, remembering that first meeting. “Yeah, he did.” 

Pepper tilted her head to one side, her smile fading as she looked at Felicity. “Seeing how he was when you were gone, though . . . it was very heroic, what he did.” 

“That’s because he’s a hero. He--he just doesn’t think he is,” Felicity said quietly. 

The faraway look on Pepper’s face, the way her eyes were soft and unfocused--Felicity guessed her mother was thinking of the times her father had done that. When he had risked his life to save others. 

“You know, my mother once said that we choose romantic partners based on our parents. That women pick men like their fathers and men pick women like their mothers,” Pepper said. 

“Really?” Felicity asked, her nose wrinkling. “That seems weird. And dangerous--what if your father was a really horrible person? That means you’d fall in love with someone who would be horrible to you.” 

Her mother snorted delicately. “It’s not that obvious, Felicity. Just that you end up attracted to someone who has traits that remind you, in some ways, of your parents. For good or for ill.” 

Honestly, it sounded kind of incestous to Felicity, but before she could point that out, her mother continued. “Tony is stubborn, heroic, and under all his bluster and defenses, he loves with his whole heart. If you were looking for a man who would measure up to your father, I think you found him.” 

Turning her head, Felicity gazed at Oliver. When you put it like that . . . maybe her mother was on to something. She let out a weak laugh and looked back at Pepper. “That puts ‘being a daddy’s girl’ in new perspective.” 

Her mother chuckled, but--but her mother’s laugh wasn’t so deep normally, and never raspy like that. And then Felicity felt a pressure against her fingers, and even with her genius-level intellect, it took her too long to realize--

“Oliver!” she gasped, standing up and leaning over him. “Oliver?”

His eyes were barely open, but his lips were turned up in the smallest of smiles. There was a soft whisper of sound from his mouth, and Felicity moved closer to him. “Oliver? Are you okay? Do you need your doctor?”

“Your mom likes me.”

“That’s the first thing you say after all this? Oliver Queen, I swear--” Felicity choked out, pressing a kiss against his forehead. She ran a hand over his cheek, feeling tears threaten. Because he was awake, making bad jokes and smiling at her and _here_.

“I’m okay,” he whispered before he started coughing.

“Don’t talk!” she insisted, fumbling to pour him some water. She looked frantically over her shoulder to ask her mother to get the doctor, but Pepper was already gone.

Holding the cup’s straw to Oliver’s lips, she watched him drink. “Mom’s getting your doctor. Do you hurt anywhere?” For good measure, she leaned in and kissed him again, this time against his cheek.

When she pulled back, she could have sworn he was pouting. “That’s not where it hurts,” he muttered.

“You’re pulling an Indiana Jones on me now?” she asked, her voice high-pitched. “Well, I’m not kissing where it hurts, which would be your chest--not when your doctor is on the way. That's a scoop the papers would just love, and I’m not giving them more ammo until we’ve talked. And I know you have no idea what I’m talking about, but you’re safe, Oliver--no one knows who you are.” She took his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

His eyelids lifted for a moment, as if he was trying to see her better, but he was still too tired, too deep in the grip of the medication, to really wake up the rest of the way. But he nodded his head slightly, and tugged on her hand. “You’re okay?”

She couldn’t help sniffling. “Yes--yes, I’m fine. I’m so much better now that you’re awake.” 

He smiled a little, and then the doctors were in the room and Felicity had to step back and let go of his hand, so the medical professionals could do their work, all while appearing like she wasn’t madly in love with the man in the hospital bed.

There was no way she pulled that off, though.

XXX

The frown on Oliver’s face grew deeper and deeper the longer that Felicity read. Finally, when she had gone through most of the papers, he held up his hand. “Okay, enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Felicity said, setting aside the _LA Times_ and moving from her chair to his bed. She reached out and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “But you asked--”

“Yeah, I know,” Oliver replied before pressing his lips together.

Instead of pushing him to explain, Felicity kept holding his hand and watched Oliver. It had taken him another day to fully fight off the anesthesia and painkillers, enough for them to talk.

Well, some kissing had come first, Felicity admitted happily. Because they had both been very eager to celebrate surviving the last few days, to confirm that their physical relationship was still okay, that _they_ were okay, at least for the time being.

But somehow, Oliver had remembered what she had said about the newspapers. So when she had filled him in on what had happened after he killed Malcolm Merlyn, he had asked her to read what the papers were saying.

Felicity had been worried he would get upset at the absurdly untrue stories about her: calling her names, accusing her of playing Oliver Queen and the Green Arrow off each other. But to her surprise, he was more distressed, more confused by the articles that praised the Green Arrow. The ones that called him a hero. Not just for saving her, but for playing a critical part in taking out Malcolm Merlyn, the architect of the Undertaking.

Honestly, she didn’t know how much more he could take. His mother was in jail, Merlyn’s body had vanished from the morgue . . . on top of his physical injuries, Felicity didn’t think he needed to add an identity crisis to the list of his problems.

“Hey,” she said softly, stroking his hair with her free hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

His face stayed scrunched up in thought for a long moment, and then he sighed, his muscles losing some of their tension. “Yeah,” he said, resting his head against the pillows. “It’s just a lot to take in. I never thought I’d be called a hero.”

“You’re gonna have to get used to it,” Felicity counseled him gently. “The Mayor publicly thanked you, the SCPD is on the record as wanting to work with the Green Arrow--as long as you wear the hood, Starling City is going to see you as a hero.” She paused, biting her lip, before she went on. “But you don’t need the hood to be a hero. Not to me.”

This wasn’t the first time they had talked about his secret identity. But Felicity thought it might be the first time he was hearing her. He had always listened--but she knew he hadn't heard her. Not until now.

“I know you want to keep the people you care about safe--keep them away from what you have to do,” Felicity said, gazing into his eyes as she picked her words carefully. “But if it’s not a secret that Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow, they will be safe. Your mother, Thea, Laurel and Tommy--they’ll know what you’re doing. they’ll make better choices when they’re in danger. And you’ll have resources, backup, anything you need if they are in danger.”

“You make it sound like it’s simple. LIke nobody would go after the Green Arrow’s mother or best friend or--” Oliver stopped, his jaw tight. “I know that’s not how it’s been for your dad, for the rest of the Avengers, but I don’t live in that world. I haven’t since I sailed away on the Gambit.”

Grimacing, Felicity blew out a breath. “You know, you should be talking to my dad about all this,” she commented.

“Do you really mean that or are you just frustrated with me?” Oliver asked, brushing his thumb against the back of her hand.

“Both,” Felicity said, giving him a look.

“Then I’ll talk to him,” Oliver replied, tugging on her hand and pulling her down towards him.

She put her free hand on the bed, holding herself up and away from him. “Wait--you will?”

Oliver met her eyes. “If you think I should, I will. Even if he’ll probably spend the whole conversation making jokes and needling me instead of actually answering my questions.”

“He wouldn’t--” Felicity began, only to stop and sigh when Oliver lifted his eyebrows in disbelief. “Okay, yeah, he’d do that some. But he knows how important this is.”

“The next time he’s here, I’ll ask him,” Oliver said, letting go of her hand only to slide his arm around her.

“Oliver, your chest . . .” Felicity sighed, fighting the desire to melt, to fall against his body and push aside all of this for a little while.

Because as much as she wanted to forget what she saw, she couldn’t. She would never forget seeing Oliver ram that arrow through his chest.

“Hey,” he breathed out, his eyes so soft and blue. “What’s wrong?” His hand ran up and down over her back, spreading warmth through her. Making her feel that the rest of the world was so far away.

Even though she knew there was still so much to talk about, even though she knew he was still healing, Felicity let herself stretch out beside him on the bed. She draped one arm over him, below the wound that required the bandages wrapped around his torso. With her face pressing against his left shoulder, she took a few deep breaths. He mostly smelled like the hospital, but underneath was that Oliver scent. 

“Here,” he said quietly, urging her closer to him. His hand kept moving over her back, going higher and stroking her hair as well. 

For a few long moments, Felicity took the comfort Oliver was offering. Even though she should be the one doing this for him.

“I feel guilty,” she whispered against his shoulder, the words slipping out when she couldn’t bear it any longer. When she realized she didn’t deserve this comfort and warmth and peace.

His hand froze on her back. “Why?” he asked, sounding utterly confused.

Felicity pushed herself up on her arm, gazing at him. “For . . . everything. For needing snuggles when I should be doing this for you, for you getting hurt, for this whole identity question just adding to everything you’re dealing with--I feel like I’m making things harder for you.”

As she spoke, Felicity heard her voice break. Saw her hands tremble. Felt the tears prick her eyes. But then Oliver’s hands were cupping her face. “You have nothing to feel guilty about,” he said fiercely, holding her eyes and refusing to let her look away. “ _Nothing_ ,” he repeated.

“But--everything is--”

“Felicity, you don’t make my life harder,” he insisted, his voice deep and firm and warm and so heartbreakingly sincere. “You make it _better_. You make _me_ better.”

Her lower lip was trembling and she was definitely close to crying. But Felicity couldn’t help smiling at Oliver. Because--because--

“I love you.” 

“What?” she gasped. Because she hadn’t said that. 

“I love you,” Oliver repeated, smiling at her, that special smile he only seemed to use for her. 

Her mouth was probably hanging open. She must look like an idiot. But Felicity couldn’t believe that Oliver said it first. And there was something she needed to say to him. 

She moved closer to him, bringing her hand up to stroke her fingers along his jaw. Her eyes couldn’t help looking at his lips for a moment, before they lifted to meet his gaze. Where she saw so much hope and happiness and love that she felt like her heart was going to burst right out of her chest. 

“I love you, Oliver,” she said softly, watching as her words made a smile appear on his face. A wide, bright, happy beam of a smile, one that made his whole face--no, his whole body--light up. 

And then their arms were around each other and they were kissing and Felicity really wished they had figured this out before he got hurt, because there was no way they could do anything more than kiss while he was hurt and they were in a hospital . . . 

“I’m willing to try if you are,” Oliver said against her lips, his shoulders shaking under her hands, and Felicity realized she had said the last part out loud. 

Laughing, Felicity let her face fall against his neck, breathing hard. “Now you know my deepest, darkest secret. I babble.” 

“I already knew that,” Oliver said, tightening his arms around her and smiling at her. God, if he just kept smiling at her like that, she could face anything. 

“You think you do, but you have no idea how bad it really is--how much I’ve had to hold back, how hard it was to learn not to just say whatever I think,” Felicity warned, lifting her head to stroke his hair. “You’re in for it now, Queen.” 

“I can’t wait,” he said, drawing her in for another kiss.

XXX

Being this nervous was ridiculous, to the point of utter silliness. Because what was the big deal with her father talking to Oliver? They were just discussing the importance of superheroes owning their identities and not being lone wolves, a conversation that could have a huge impact on Oliver’s life as well as her own . . . 

Okay, it was fine to be nervous, but pacing in the hallway was a bit much. 

Dropping into a chair, Felicity made herself take her tablet out of her bag and begin attacking her inbox. She would be returning to work tomorrow, just in time for all the publicity about the opening of the Glades factory. SI was finally ready to open the factory and Felicity was excited to see her processor actually start being manufactured. To know that it would be put to good use, unlike what Malcolm Merlyn had planned for it. And it was nice to have good news about the Glades, after what had nearly happened to it. 

The law enforcement raids on Merlyn’s holdings had determined that the hacking attempts against SI had mostly been a smokescreen: something to keep her distracted while Merlyn worked to gain her processor. And it had worked, Felicity admitted to herself glumly. She had been so frazzled by the hacks she hadn’t even put the pieces together. 

Of course, Oliver might have helped distract her, too. 

Just thinking about him made her bad mood lighten a little, and she glanced over at the door to his room before bending her head back over her tablet. 

“Do you know what they say about all work and no play?” 

Felicity looked up and smiled at the sight of Digg. “Hi. What about when work is like play?” 

He chuckled and sat next to her, a paper bag and two bottles of water in his hands. “That I don’t know so much about. Here, I thought you might be hungry.” He handed her one of the bottles of water, then drew something wrapped in paper out of the bag. “It’s turkey and swiss on whole grain, with spicy mustard.” 

Setting aside her tablet, Felicity took the sandwich with a small smile. “I think you’re implying I’m as useless at taking care of myself as Oliver, since I’ve seen you do this routine with him.” 

“Nope,” Digg said, withdrawing his own sandwich and unwrapping it, the scent of pastrami immediately filling the air. “You’re actually worse than Oliver. And with your dad talking to him right now, I thought you could use a friendly ear and a sandwich.” 

With a snort, Felicity shook her head. “I look that nervous, huh?” 

“Eat your sandwich first,” Digg ordered with a smile. 

“Yes, sir,” Felicity said, unwrapping her sandwich and taking a bite. Digg was right, though--she was hungry, and the sandwich was really good. 

They both ate in silence for a few moments, and then Digg said, “So Oliver is getting discharged tomorrow. That PR rep from Stark Industries--Amelia?--was recommending a press conference for the two of you. Something about thanking the Green Arrow, stopping all this love triangle nonsense.” 

There was something in Digg’s voice that made Felicity pause and lower her sandwich. “Yeah, Amelia mentioned that idea to me. But you don’t like it, I take it?” 

“I think there’s an easier way to stop people from thinking you’re caught between two men,” Digg said, lowering his voice. “If everyone knew there was only one man in your life.” 

“Have you talked to Oliver about this?” she asked curiously. 

Digg nodded. “A bit. Although not recently--not so much since you came into the picture, because he listens to you more than me.” 

Since she had started dating Oliver, Felicity thought she and Digg had become friendly. After all, they had a common goal: taking care of Oliver. Digg was able to help Oliver in so many ways that she couldn’t, like when he was out in the field, being Green Arrow. The idea that he might have any doubt of how important he was to Oliver . . . 

Felicity reached out and rested her hand on his arm. “He wouldn’t be here without you, John. And he knows that. So do I.”

He gave her a long look, then smiled a little. “You know, when he first met you, I was sure he was going to ignore what he felt for you and try to bring you onto the team.” 

“What? Me?” Felicity asked, her eyes going wide. 

“Yeah, you,” Digg said, taking a quick bite of his sandwich. “We needed tech help, and you’re a genius. But I’m glad with how it all worked out.” 

“Me, too,” Felicity replied after a moment of thought. After she imagined having a working relationship with Oliver, keeping him safe when he was out fighting crime, yet without being with him. Seeing him go home every night, knowing he was brooding and lost, without anyone to cheer him up and help him. 

It made her shiver a little. Not that it wouldn’t have been rewarding, to help Starling City in her own way. She couldn’t deny that it felt good, knowing that she had helped dismantle the earthquake machine and preventing the mass casualties and widespread destruction that such a machine would have entailed. But to not know what it felt like to love Oliver . . . to be held at arm’s length by him . . . 

Digg patted her shoulder. “Not that you wouldn’t have been a big help, but I think Oliver needed you a lot more as a girlfriend than as IT help.” 

She smiled at him and took a sip of water. “So you think everyone should know who the Green Arrow is.” 

Shrugging his shoulders, Digg leaned back in his chair. “I never thought it was the healthiest thing. Someone who spent five years on a island, making choices that would isolate him even more--it’d hurt him more in the long run.” 

“Yeah,” Felicity acknowledged. “But he’s got us,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah,” Digg repeated, looking at her. “He’s got us.” 

They settled into a comfortable silence, finishing their sandwiches, and then the door to Oliver’s room opened and her father sauntered out. 

“Dad,” Felicity said, balling up the sandwich wrapper as she stood up. “Hi.” 

“Hi, princess,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “You sure about him?” he asked, jerking his thumb behind him.

“Sure about what?” Felicity countered, giving her father her best ‘don’t play games with me’ look. A look she had modeled on Pepper’s, which was the only reason it was at least occasionally successful.

As his response, her father gave her his innocent look, which never worked on Felicity. “I’m just saying, it’s not too late to change your mind about him . . .” 

“I love him, Dad,” Felicity said quietly. “And he loves me.” 

“Yeah, he’s mentioned how he feels about you,” Tony said, eyeing her speculatively. “Well, don’t know if I got through to him--hard to tell anything with Mr. Stone Face--but at least he seemed like he was listening.” 

Wrapping her arms around him, Felicity hugged him. “Thanks, Dad. Tell Mom that I’m gonna talk to Amelia later; she asked me to check in.” 

“Will do,” Tony said, patting her back as he pulled away. “I’ve gotta get going--there’s a thing in Wakanda--but if Oliver screws up, I wanna know right away.” 

“Sorry, Dad,” Felicity said with a grin. “I’ll call you, but I don’t think it’ll be to say that Oliver’s screwed anything up.” 

He shrugged and grinned. “Can’t blame me for hoping.” And with another kiss to her forehead, her father was off.

“He sure sucks up all the air in the room,” Digg commented. 

Laughing, Felicity nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna go talk to Oliver. Is Rob around? I’ll probably be going home in a bit.” 

“I’ll call him,” Digg said, pulling his phone out. “You go check on Oliver.” 

With a quick smile to Digg, Felicity turned and pushed open the door to Oliver’s room. “Hey,” she said softly, moving over to his bed. 

“Hey,” he responded absently, his forehead wrinkled. 

“That is thinky face if I ever saw one,” she said, hitching one leg up to sit on the edge of his bed. 

His face cleared and he gave her a small smile. “Not used to it, huh?” 

“It’s very similar to broody face, so it’s not that much of a shock,” Felicity replied, grinning at him as she took his hand. “I guess it went okay? Talking to my dad?” 

“It did,” Oliver said, lacing his fingers through hers. “Surprisingly so.” 

A lot had changed in Felicity’s life since she moved to Starling City. One thing that hadn’t was how much she hated mysteries. But something she had learned was the importance of giving people their space. Well, to give Oliver his space. So even though she was dying to pump him for more info on his talk with her father, she held her tongue. Although that didn’t stop her from talking. 

“Are you excited to be going home? I am, because it seems like your doctors and nurses have an uncanny ability to walk in when we’re kissing.” 

Oliver huffed out a laugh, his eyes meeting hers. “I am excited. Not just for that reason, but it’s a big one.” He rubbed his thumb against her hand. “I don’t think that’s the question you really wanted to ask me.” 

“I didn’t want to push you . . .” she said hesitantly.

“You never push me,” he said, before immediately shaking his head. “Wait, I didn’t mean that. You do push me, but you always know when to back off, when to wait. And really . . . telling you things never seems as scary as telling other people.” 

She slid her fingers between his and moved closer to him. “I feel the same way, you know. Like I can tell you anything.” 

“You can,” he said, lifting their hands and kissing her knuckles. “So . . . so you want to know what I’m thinking. About the secret identity thing.” 

All she could do was nod, because her heart was in her throat a little bit. Because . . . because so much had changed in the last few days, and his decision might be the biggest change yet. Even more than both of them admitting their feelings, whatever Oliver wanted to do about the Green Arrow would impact not just them--it would have an impact on Digg, Tommy and Laurel, and Oliver’s family--not to mention all of Starling City. 

And selfishly, she wanted him to do whatever would keep him safest. But she didn’t know what that was. Just as much as he wanted to protect her, she felt a fierce need to do the same for him. And while she had been mostly worried about his soul, about keeping him Oliver, now . . . now she wanted to keep every part of him safe. 

He looked at her for a long moment, his fingers rubbing against hers. “I . . . I think I know what I want to do, but I want to know what you think. What you think I should do.” 

“Would that influence your decision?” she asked, holding his hand tightly. “Because I don’t want that. You need to make the best decision for you.” 

“What’s best for me also involves you, Felicity,” he said firmly, his eyes fixed on hers. “I don’t want to choose without knowing what you think.” 

“Okay,” she said slowly, breathing in and out as she tried to come up with something that was honest without being dismissive of Oliver’s concerns. “I think . . . you know that I’ve always said that keeping who you are a secret is dangerous for other people. I still think that. And now . . . I know that you’re also denying the people you love a huge comfort.” 

His eyebrows drew together, his face confused. “What do you mean?”

Felicity gazed at him for a long moment. “When I woke up in that warehouse . . . I knew that you were going to save me. That you would find me and get me out of there. It was all I could think about. And--and it helped,” she said, her voice getting choked up and her words failing her.

Breathing out her name, Oliver drew her into his arms, wrapping them around her and pushing away those memories of being cold and hungry, tied to a chair and so incredibly scared. “I . . . I never had that,” he whispered. “I didn’t know it could help.” 

And that made her hug him just as tightly as he was hugging her. Because it was all she could do, she knew. Whenever she thought about those five years, her only option was to hug him, even though it was so hard not to find someone willing to zap her into the past and keep him safe. Keep him from ever being hurt. 

That was all she wanted. And . . . and she was going to do everything she could to make sure he didn’t get hurt, from now on. That is, if he went for the idea her mind had just created.

But first, she rubbed his back. “It helped so much, Oliver. So--so that’s why I think you should tell everyone who you are. Because it’s not just about your mom or Tommy or Thea having that feeling--it’s about everyone in Starling,” she said, drawing back to look at him. “Imagine if everyone in this city had hope.” 

Oliver’s eyes were always so expressive. But at that moment, as she watched her words sink in, she felt her breath catch. Because seeing him realize what that might mean, realizing how much of an impact he could have for good . . . in that moment, Felicity knew that her life was always going to be tied to Oliver’s. Because she wanted to be there for all the moments he realized he was making a difference, she wanted to help him make that difference, and she really wanted to love him for as long as she could. 

“I want to be your IT girl.” 

Now he looked even more confused. “What?”

“Digg told me about how when we first met, he thought you would have me work with you, hacking or doing whatever techy things you needed,” Felicity said, resting her hands on his shoulders. “And don’t get me wrong, I love being your girlfriend, but--but I want to help you.” 

“No--absolutely not,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “It’s too much--”

“If you say ‘too much danger’ I am gonna hit you,” Felicity snapped, doing her best to stare him down. “Because how would helping you put me in more danger than I’ve already been in? Everything that happened to me was because of me, not you, so maybe I’m the one that causes all the trouble and you should steer clear of me! But good luck getting rid of me, Oliver Queen, because if it’s online, I can find it, and believe me, I would find you if you tried to run.” 

By the time she finished, she had definitely crossed over into her Loud Voice and Oliver was leaning back against the pillows, watching her and listening with a blank expression on his face. “Can I finish?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

She sucked in a breath and nodded, feeling chastised. 

“I was going to say, it’s too much for you, staying up all hours helping me and then having to work all day,” Oliver said, a small smirk blooming on his face. 

All she could do was stare at him, and then she hit him on the shoulder. “You are the worst. And ow, you are all muscle.” 

“Thank you,” he said, still smirking as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in against him. “If you want to help,” he continued, his voice growing serious, “I’d be a fool not to take you up on it. But I think you need to consider if it will work with your day job. I can get away with it--running the club is a lot easier than being a vice-president.” 

“Okay,” she said softly, curling in against him. “I do want to help, but . . . but that’s a good point. Not that I’m ready to give up on the idea, but I’ll have to see about how I can make it work.” 

His lips brushed over her hair. “I love you all the more for offering,” he whispered. 

“Yeah?” she asked, tilting her head back to look up at him. 

“Yeah,” he said, his hands kneading her back. 

They just looked at each other for a long moment, and then something flashed through his eyes as his hands stopped massaging her muscles. 

“Something wrong? Am I hurting you?” Felicity questioned, immediately pulling back. 

“No, no--” he said, tightening his arms around her. “I . . . I just realized, I have a question for you.” 

Felicity tilted her head to the side, wondering what was going on with him. “What is it?” 

For the first time in a while, she saw him breathe deeply, in and out twice, which made her remember the first time they met and a dozen other moments. And none of those moments gave her any hint of where they would end up, she thought with a smile as she waited for whatever Oliver wanted to ask her.

End, Chapter 12


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Given the number of cliffhangers in the last few chapters, I thought I’d give you the epilogue a bit early, so you can find out what Oliver was going to ask Felicity. :-)
> 
> I want to thank ginevra-red for the amazing gifset that inspired this fic, and to fanmommer for her excellent betaing skills. And most of all, I want to thank all of you, the readers. For reading, for commenting here, for liking and reblogging on Tumblr: thank you for taking some time from your day to read about the characters we all love. I’m so thrilled that y’all have embraced my version of Oliver and Felicity and I hope you’re excited to see the last chapter in **It Runs in the Family**!

“All right, I’ll make a few introductory remarks, and then you and Mr. Queen will come out and read your respective statements. Are you sure you don’t want to go first, Felicity? It may look a little odd otherwise.”

Amelia’s voice was brisk but warm, just like always. It made Felicity smile. “I’ve got the real bombshell, so I should go last,” she replied.

Oliver huffed out a laugh, one that he hid behind a hand. Amelia frowned a little. “I don’t like not knowing what you’re going to say, Felicity.”

“I know, Amelia, and I apologize,” Felicity said quickly. “But this is very important to me. And I’ve already had my mother go over my statement.”

“Well, that will do,” Amelia said, straightening her blazer. “All right, five minutes to go.” And with that, the PR rep left Felicity and Oliver alone, in a small office near the entrance of Starling General Hospital. Even through the blinds-covered window, the flashes of cameras were visible within moments.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity marveled at how different this press conference was from her last one. The last seven months had done a lot to improve her handling of the press. She had gotten a hands-on, practical course in how to deal with the paparazzi. So she didn’t feel as nervous about speaking in front of them as she did the last time.

Or maybe it was more than that. After all, she had learned so many things since the last time she spoke to the press.

A warm, calloused hand wrapped around hers. “Okay?”

Felicity nodded, looking up at Oliver. Who, she was pretty sure, was the real reason she wasn’t more nervous. “Yeah, I’m good. Thank you for being a gentleman and going first.” 

He chuckled softly as he leaned in and kissed her lightly--Amelia had already warned him about smearing Felicity's lipstick. “You’re welcome, I think. Although you’re right--you do have the bigger bombshell.” 

“Mmm,” Felicity hummed, a smile on her lips. “Not every day two billionaires agree to a merger.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” Oliver asked, his thumb gently running over the back of her hand, before he wiggled the engagement ring on her finger.

_“I . . . I just realized, I have a question for you.”_

_Felicity tilted her head to the side, wondering what was going on with him. “What is it?”_

_He breathed deeply, in and out twice, before he swallowed. “This is really fast, but I don’t want to wait.”_

_Giving him a soft smile, she squeezed his hand. “If you’re asking me to move in with you, I might have a different answer this time. Because when it’s right, why wait?”_

_His eyes lit up. “Yeah,” he said, tugging her closer. “But actually, I was wondering . . . Felicity, will you marry me?”_

_It wasn’t the question she was expecting. Because honestly, she had only expected him to ask her to move in with him. She hadn’t thought they were going to move this fast. Her eyes searched Oliver’s face, looking for any sign that he didn’t really mean it. That maybe he was asking because he was scared or worried._

_But she didn't see fear or nerves in his eyes. All she saw was love. A love that took her breath away, a love that she knew she couldn’t live without. A love that had changed her and had saved her._

_So there was no fear or doubt in her heart or her mind as she nodded._

_“Yes,” she answered softly. “Yes, Oliver.”_

_“Really?” he asked, his lips turning up in a wide smile._

_She rolled her eyes and laughed a little as she nodded again. “Yes, really! Do you think I get proposed to every day?”_

_“You should,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in for a long, slow kiss. One that scrambled her brain too much to point out all the logic gaps._

“No, I’m not calling it a merger. Mom reminded me that humor almost never works in a press release,” Felicity said, leaning her chest against his. “Although we were both sad to leave out how my net worth is greater than yours.”

“I appreciate not being painted as a gold-digger,” Oliver said, his face neutral except for a small twist to his lips and his bright eyes. Then he grinned at her and squeezed her hands.

Laughing, she went up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’m excited.”

“Me, too,” Oliver said, gazing down at her. “It . .. it feels different already, having people know.” 

Felicity nodded, unconsciously tightening her grip on Oliver’s hands. This morning, Oliver had told his family and his best friends his secret. It had been difficult, watching Oliver struggle to get the words out. His whole body had braced for their reactions like a boxer waiting for a knockout blow. But it had actually gone not as badly as it could have, Felicity thought.

Yes, Laurel was definitely angry and Tommy had been too quiet. But Moira and Thea had done just what Felicity thought they would: hug Oliver and tell him how proud they were of him. And watching that, seeing the tears shimmer ever-so-slightly in his eyes, Felicity had felt like crying, too.

Of course, his mother and sister had questions--difficult questions--that Oliver would have to answer. And with Tommy and Laurel offering acceptance that was only one step up from grudging, Oliver would need to repair the damage to his friendships.

But Felicity knew he could do it. And she would help, in every way she could. Even if it meant her own friendships suffered for a while, it would be worth it. 

A quick knock on the door, and then Amelia’s assistant popped her head into the office. “Ms. Stark, Mr. Queen, it’s time.”

“Showtime,” Felicity said, kissing Oliver quickly before moving to stand at his side.

He nodded, keeping his hand wrapped around hers, hiding her engagement ring. The ring that was a Queen heirloom, brought to Oliver’s hospital room this morning by Digg from the Queen vault at Starling National Bank.

As they approached the glass doors at the hospital's entrance, Felicity watched Oliver. He still looked a bit pale, especially with the bruises and cuts on his face. Honestly, if anyone was really surprised by Oliver’s announcement tonight, after seeing only a few of his injuries, then the people of Starling City weren’t being well-served by their press.

Stubbornly, Oliver had insisted on not using a wheelchair. So his gait was slower than normal, giving the cameras even more time to take pictures of him--of both of them. But she just held tight to his hand, hoping her ring wasn’t cutting into his palm too much, as she smiled at the reporters and photographers.

Oliver was so good at this game. He put on a charming smile, let the press take their pictures and shout their questions, and then held up his free hand. And just like that, they settled down as Oliver stepped up to the podium.

“Thank you for coming to this joint press conference,” Oliver said into the microphone. “Even though it should be ladies first--” he paused and looked at Felicity, his practiced smile fading into a small, honest grin-- “today I’ll be speaking first, to address the questions about the Green Arrow.”

The barely restrained hush became less restrained, everyone poised and ready to start asking questions. Oliver didn’t speak for a moment and Felicity took a small step closer to him. He lifted his head and looked at her, then turned back to the crowd. 

“Five years ago, I was on a ship that sank. I washed up on what I thought was a deserted island, where I struggled to survive. But the island wasn’t deserted after all.”

Felicity had expected everyone to shuffle their feet and rifle through their notebooks, full of anticipation, when Oliver started telling a somewhat-sanitized version of his story. But instead, there was just silence. Everyone was hanging onto Oliver’s every word.

“I learned to hunt for food. To live with injuries and wounds. To expect the worst from people who were just trying to survive, like me,” Oliver said, his hand squeezing hers tightly. He took two deep breaths. “And I learned how to use a bow and arrow.”

It was like everyone had sucked in a breath at the same moment, and they were just waiting for Oliver’s next words in order to release it.

There were fine tremors running through his arm, and Felicity reached out to lay her free hand on his bicep. He didn’t look at her, but she could see just a bit of the tension leave his jaw.

“The man who taught me how to be an archer wore a green hood. I wear that hood now in his memory. His, and the others I lost.” There was a shorter pause, and then a small smile appeared on Oliver’s face, one that expressed relief and perhaps acceptance. “I’m the Green Arrow.”

For a moment, there was nothing. No movement, no sound. And then everyone leapt into action, cameras flashing and raised voices overlapping, as everyone tried to ask their question or get their shot all at once.

Amelia stepped up, speaking loudly into the microphone. “Mr. Queen will be speaking more in the coming days. For now, he has said all he intends to say about this topic.” She glared down the members of the press who kept calling out questions. There was grumbling, but eventually they settled into a slightly-restless silence.

“Thank you,” Amelia said calmly. “Now, Ms. Stark has her own statement.”

As she walked to the mic, Felicity could feel Oliver’s eyes on her. She turned her head and looked at him, and without saying anything, she knew what he was thinking. If she had changed her mind about him, he would be willing to let her go. Even though they both knew it would kill a piece of his soul--a big, important piece--he was still willing to do that.

But if he could talk to her without saying a word, so could she to him. And so Felicity told Oliver to stop being an idiot.

She knew the message was received by how his lips quirked into a smile and by how he shifted the grip he had on her hand, so that her hand was now on top of his. 

“Now that you know I’m not part of a love triangle,” Felicity began, looking out over the sea of reporters, “my announcement might be less interesting. But I didn’t want there to be any doubt about my decision. It doesn’t matter to me if Oliver wears a suit or a hood, because he is the man I believe in.” She paused as her voice shook a little. “He’s the man I love. Which is why I’m very happy to announce that I have accepted Oliver’s proposal of marriage.”

And now everyone _really_ went crazy, and Felicity couldn’t help grinning; even Oliver was smiling broadly, a real smile and not his practiced one.

“We realize some might think we’re moving too fast,” Oliver said, responding to several questions on the same theme. He stepped in close to her and slid his arm around her waist. “But when it’s right, why wait?”

Felicity flushed at Oliver repeating her words from yesterday. “We’re also planning a long engagement, because you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get all the Avengers together when the world _isn’t_ ending.”

There was laughter and even scattered applause, which gave Oliver cover to lean down and whisper in her ear. “Wait, _all_ the Avengers?”

“If you keep thinking I’m going to back out of this, just wait ‘til you see all the superheroes who will help me convince you that isn’t going to happen,” Felicity told him, smirking up at him.

And that made Oliver laugh--really laugh, like she had always wanted to hear. He was still laughing as she kissed him, in fact.

XXX

To Felicity’s surprise, there were no reporters waiting for them when they stepped out of her apartment building the next morning. No photographers snapping away to capture her messy ponytail, faded t-shirt and yoga pants, or Oliver’s cargo pants and too-tight henley.

“Wow,” she said as they held hands, walking to Jitters for some coffee. “I thought the press would be awful. Like sharks circling the chum.”

“I think they’re cutting us a break today. They’re not sure how to spin this story yet,” Oliver said, his voice still a bit rough from sleep. The sound of his voice made shivers go down her spine and made her knees weak, in the way that she really, really liked. Especially when she then jumped up, wrapped her legs around his waist, and sucked his lower lip into her mouth.

Why had she insisted they leave their bed? Oh, right, coffee.

“It’s nice,” Felicity commented, “but it feels weird.”

Oliver nodded but grinned. “I suppose we should enjoy this, since it won’t last.” 

Dropping his hand, Felicity tucked herself up against his side, wrapping her arm around his waist. “Which is why I’m doing this.”

“No complaints from me,” Oliver said, draping his arm over her shoulders.

The rest of their walk was quiet, both of them taking in Starling City in the early morning, savoring this chance to walk together without any disruptions to the bubble that surrounded them.

It wasn’t until they had their coffees--black for Oliver, venti skinny vanilla latte for her--and were sitting at a table outside the coffee shop that Oliver spoke.

“You know, there was an article in the _Tattler_ asking if your kidnapping was some elaborate plan by your dad.” 

Felicity quirked an eyebrow. “I did not know. But please, explain this ‘article’ from that ‘newspaper’.”

He looked at her with his lips quirking up. “Supposedly, he’s looking for a successor and thought he should test the Green Arrow. To see if he was worthy.” 

“That is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” Felicity immediately said. “First off, the suit isn’t like Mjölnir--it’s not about finding whomsoever is worthy to wield the powers of Thor. Not that you wouldn’t be amazing--you would,” she reassured Oliver, resting her hand over his. “But there’s no way my dad would do that.” 

_If only because it would be such a huge slight to Rhodey_ , Felicity thought silently.

A small, cocky smile appeared on Oliver’s face. “I’m not going to lie--when I was a kid, I liked Iron Man best.”

“I’m not surprised,” Felicity said dryly. “Not with how much you two have in common.” She grinned at Oliver, her hands wrapped around her coffee cup.

He shrugged. “So maybe I _should_ be the next Iron Man.”

She knew he was just kidding. And it was a lot of fun to joke with Oliver, to see his dry sense of humor and deadpan reactions and flashes of amusing arrogance, especially compared to her babbling and big gestures. So she smiled right back at him as she lowered her coffee.

“Oh, Oliver--if anyone is going to be the next Iron Man, it’s me.” Then her smile fell as something occurred to her. “I guess that means I need to get over my fear of heights.”

Oliver’s laugh was quick and free, and even though it was only the second time she’d heard him laugh like that, Felicity knew she was getting addicted.

“Well, I guess there’s only room for one hero in this relationship,” she said, grinning at him.

“I agree,” he replied, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I’m glad it’s you, Felicity.”

Felicity had no idea how to respond to that. To hearing _Oliver_ call _her_ a hero. No idea, except the normal one.

When she leaned across the table, Oliver met her halfway, and their lips met in a kiss. Felicity felt a rush of love and happiness as she remembered she was going to be kissing him for the rest of her life.

End.


End file.
